Suche:cli n tel

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



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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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


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


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


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

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

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

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


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

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



Véronique Mortaigne

GALA announce Ten Years of GALA – a compilation marking a decade of independent culture

Ten Years of GALA is both an archive and a horizon: a reflection on where GALA has come from, and a signal of what lies ahead.

Founded in 2016 as a one-day gathering in South London, GALA has grown into a global point of reference for dancers, artists and collectives drawn together by a shared commitment to independence, collaboration and underground music culture. Rather than charting success through scale alone, the festival has consistently prioritised integrity, community and musical curiosity – values that underpin this release.

Spanning fifteen tracks, Ten Years of GALA unfolds as a considered journey. It opens with an intimate spoken contribution from Charlie Dark, grounding the compilation firmly in GALA’s home of Peckham before gradually expanding outward into fuller, club-focused terrain. From there, the record moves between moods and tempos, tracing a path from reflective moments into the physical language of the dancefloor.

The compilation brings together longtime friends of the festival alongside newer voices drawn into its orbit in recent years. Each artist contributes a distinct perspective, but collectively the tracks form a coherent portrait – not of a single sound, but of a shared ethos shaped over ten years of gatherings, collaborations and days spent dancing together.

Rather than a retrospective in the conventional sense, Ten Years of GALA functions as a living document. It captures fragments of past editions, scenes and relationships, while remaining firmly oriented toward the future. These are not museum pieces, but records designed to be played, shared and folded back into the spaces from which they came.

Together, the compilation holds a piece of GALA’s first decade – not as a closed chapter, but as a foundation for what comes next.

Los Amantes Oscuros" brings together for the first time on vinyl the recordings made between 1968 and 1969 by pioneers of Bolivian garage rock, Loving Darks, originally released on their three EPs. A selection packed with proto-punk covers of hits by the Stones, Cream, Tony Hatch, and more-often surpassing the originals in attitude and power. Their original records are highly sought after and are virtually impossible to find in any condition_ If we had to choose the Latin American country where the rawest and wildest garage and beat records of the '60s were recorded, Bolivia would be one of the clearest contenders. For some strange reason-surely related to the country's extreme conditions, its high altitude, and the influence of huayno-Bolivian recordings are truly unique and fascinating. A multitude of bands sprang up under the influence of groups-mainly British-that dominated the international charts. From the ashes of two of Bolivia's most important seminal bands, Los Black Byrds and The Turtles, two new groups fundamental to the history of Bolivian rock would be born: the mythical Climax and the legendary Loving Darks. "Los Amantes Oscuros" brings together for the first time on vinyl the recordings this band made between 1968 and 1969, originally released across three EPs on the local Lyra label. Their repertoire is packed with covers such as 'El Adivino,' a sped-up reinterpretation of 'Fortune Teller,' or even 'Algo de títere,' a reworking of 'Jumpin' Jack Flash.' They also adapt the classic 'Call Me' by Tony Hatch and 'Toad' by Cream, from whom they borrow the cover of one of their most iconic albums for the artwork of their EP "Complicado." In fact, 'Complicado'-a proto-punk version of the Rolling Stones' 'Complicated' and their signature track-is a perfect example of how a Bolivian band could outdo the British giants in attitude and power. Their importance lies in having paved the way for new sounds, styles, and aesthetics within a still-emerging scene. This compilation is a joint release with the Peruvian label Rey Record and includes an insert with notes on the band's history. First time vinyl reissue.

Demilitarize follows Nazar’s remarkable 2020 debut Guerrilla, which reprocessed Angolan kuduro music with rough textures, field recordings and media clips, telling a personal story of the civil war that exiled his family to Europe, while his father, a rebel General, fought a losing battle in the jungle back home. After Guerrilla, and an extended period of serious illness, now Demilitarize is motivated by a reckoning with mortality and the flowering of new love, turning the ‘rough kuduro’ of Guerrilla inside out.This is a deep sound world, genuinely dreamy, the arc of the album describing shedding the armour of trauma and surrendering to this new situation. A constant and unexpected aspect of Demilitarize is Nazar's gentle, submerged vocal. Insistent and mantra-like, it’s like a cross between Elisabeth Frazer, Arthur Russell and Frank Ocean, and the music is fragile and opaque in response. The rhythms of kuduro are still here,but move around his voice like fish around a swimmer, while precise sound design illuminates from different angles. Chords spiral, ripple and shoot through the beats giving tracks the loosest of settings; songs disassemble; vocals float off-centre.

Steig ein in die neueste Mega-Firma von Seattle, Telehealth. Sind sie Rebellen, die mit Synth-Punk/New Wave die Grundlagen unserer techno-kapitalistischen Hölle untergraben wollen? Oder sind sie Unternehmer, die Marken aufbauen, um die Märkte zu stören und die Massen auszunehmen? Der einzige Weg, das rauszufinden, ist, ihr Debütalbum für Seattles älteste Mega-Firma, Sub Pop Records, zu kaufen. Green World Image folgt auf eine ausgedehnte US-Tournee, ein selbst veröffentlichtes Album und eine knackige 7"-Single aus dem Sub Pop Singles Club aus dem Jahr 2023. Für Fans von B-52s, Water From Your Eyes, Devo und Snooper. Die Kalshi-App ist ein ,Prognosemarkt für den Handel mit der Zukunft", eine Plattform, auf der Leute auf das Ergebnis von fast jedem realen Ereignis wetten können - von der Genauigkeit der Wettervorhersage bis hin zur Frage, ob in Gaza offiziell eine Hungersnot ausgerufen wird oder nicht. Als der Mitbegründer der Plattform, Tarek Mansour, Ende 2025 als offizieller Wett-Partner zu CNN kam, meinte er nach dem Deal: ,Die langfristige Vision ist, alles zu finanzieren und aus jeder Meinungsverschiedenheit einen handelbaren Vermögenswert zu machen." Telehealth wurde in dem chancenreichen Umfeld des Post-COVID-Seattle als skalierbares Musik-Startup mit ähnlichen Zielen gegründet. Das Unternehmen wurde 2022 von dem Ehepaar und Glücksspielbegeisterten Alexander Attitude (Synthesizer/Gesang/Gitarre) und Kendra Cox (Synthesizer/Gesang) gegründet, zu denen sich die langjährigen Mitarbeiter Ian McCutcheon (Schlagzeug), John O'Connor (Bass) und Dillon Sturtevant (Gitarre) gegründet. Die Gruppe will alle Meinungsverschiedenheiten darüber, wie die chaotische lokale ,Musikszene" weitergehen soll, zu Geld machen. Kann man DIY sein und gleichzeitig eine gute Suchmaschinenoptimierung haben? Kann man progressives kulturelles Ansehen und bares Geld gleichzeitig verdienen? Ist Kunst, die durch ,Kulturförderungen" der Tech-Industrie finanziert wird, irgendwie langweilig, authentisch gorpcore (junge Männer leben laut der New York Times den ,Quarter-Zip-Lifestyle") oder ironischerweise punkig? Für Telehealth ist die Antwort auf diese Fragen nicht ja oder nein, sondern eher eine unerschlossene Lücke im Musikmarkt, die auf eine Band wartet, die visionär und verrückt genug ist, auf die Verbreitung zu setzen. Produziert von Trevor Spencer, Green World Image, ist das zweite Album von Telehealth (nach dem Debütalbum Content Oscillator und einer Veröffentlichung des Sub Pop Singles Club, beide aus dem Jahr 2023) und sein Börsengang mit den Angel-Investoren Sub Pop ein vertikal integriertes Kunstwerk für die Post-Grunge-, Post-Flanell-Seattleiter und Konsumenten auf der ganzen Welt, die ebenfalls bereit sind, ihre eigene Leidenschaft für Musik zu finanzieren. Das traumainformierte, ergebnisorientierte und äußerst tanzbare Weirdo-Punk-Album ist inspiriert von Attitudes Zeit als ehemaliger Architekt in einer Climate PledgedÖ-Stadt, die mit ihrem Netzwerk aus effizient zonierten 5-über-1-Gebäuden die Kunst der ,Green World"-Architektur perfektioniert hat. Der PNW-Post-Punk von Telehealth schafft ähnliche architektonische Räume, in denen sich die glänzenden, futuristischen, techno-industriellen Rhythmen und Synthesizer des Seattle der Bezos-Ära mit dem rohen, unabhängigen Underground-Sound vermischen, den die Stadt aus kulturellen und Marketinggründen liebevoll bewahrt. Das Ergebnis? Stell dir XTC, REM und YMO vor, mit einem stärkeren Fokus auf ROI. Stell dir The B-52s vor, aber B2B. Stell dir einen intelligenteren Brainiac, einen transhumanen Gary Numan oder einen terminalen Online-Pylon vor. Endlich eine Band mit so vielfältigen Talenten, dass sie sowohl in deinem Keller als auch in den Amazon Spheres spielen kann.

[a] 1[USER ONBOARDING SEQUENCE]

Peach’s Soak Vol. 1 is a cross-Canadian link-up with Mood Hut that moves through slower, deeper waters.

The mini-LP was written after a tour through Asia that opened up something new in how Peach approaches making music. The turning point, as she tells it, came during a visit to a neighbourhood sento in Tokyo, while surrounded by steam rising in suspended time, something clicked about the relationship between the body and the sounds she wanted to make.

She’d been learning about cycle synching and working out with the phases of her hormonal cycle, respecting energy fluctuations throughout the course of a month, and decided to apply the approach to writing music. She allowed shifts in energy to guide tempo, density, and emotional tone rather than strictly answering to the floor.

Soak came out of this exploration, sketched and layered with field recordings from her trips to Vietnam and the Philippines during a challenging time in her life. Fragments of heat, air, and shoreline are absorbed into the music itself. Vapourous pads, low-end weight, fractured percussion, and melodies hover at the edge of dissolution. Water runs structurally through the record in surges, in tidal pacing, in the slow accumulation of texture.

Wherever this music finds you, please enjoy the Soak.

The funky, atmospheric, evocative and sometimes downright weird output of companies such as DeWolfe, Cavendish, Burton and the ubiquitous KPM have always been a guiding inspiration for ATA Records, as evidenced in the spooky soundtrack works of The Sorcerers, the big band brass of The Yorkshire Film & Television Orchestra and even in the soul-jazz of The Lewis Express ('Theme From The Watcher).

Everything released on ATA is written and guided by the label heads Neil Innes and Pete Williams, who frequently dip their toes in the Library pond while working on other projects. These occasional one-off tracks have accumulated over the past few years and have now found a home on the first volume of an ongoing series : The Library Archive

Recorded using the same techniques and equipment used to create the now legendary catalogues of music sold to the film and television industry of the 60's & 70's, The Library Archive could easily sit alongside the plain minimalist covers of KPM or Telesound.

The fierce Brass of 'Whack, Slap & Blow' and 'Kaye Okay' could both be a Keith Mansfield cut, acting as a theme tune to a glamorous saturday night tv show circa 1972. 'Duck Strut' is a cheeky slice of Bass driven Brit-funk, Muted horns and flute adding an element of Quincy Jones amongst the grooving drums and percussion. 'The Needle Nose', 'Midnight Heist' and 'Wiretap' are amongst the more cinematic tracks on the album. Moody and atmospheric, they conjure up images of dark alleys, shadowy figures and dead letter drops. 'Wigged out' channels the wonky organ weirdness of Italian library legends I Marc 4 while 'Nuclear Wind I & II' use Moog and Mellotron as electronic counterpoint to ethereal voices. 'Siren's sea's' acoustic interlude conjures up images of distant clifftops, gossamer vocals enticing you onto the rocks before album closer 'Planet Nine' traverses the cosmos.

As Poorly Knit completes it's first arc of the Sun, it's children become four, as a new mini LP is born.

Tending to his crop with dreams of rotation, Bruce sows and scythes four new grains in the porky mill. Of this strange fruit, that further explores his increasingly familiar, hyper-real and sonically surreal work within this current “movement,” he finds his foothold once more in a wild world intensity: fear and fury grappled in equal measure.

What's more, in celebration of the plentiful harvest thus far, (let alone in the interest of seed diversity), Bruce invites four fellow reapers to the farm, offering their recipe from the spoils of the label's yield:

Vancouver based Brit-abroad, dj_2button pulls apart 'The Hand,' with his 'Accidental Mood Mix,' to be reborn as an Odyssian 13 minute stomper: "a fight of emotions, of light and dark; in quiet protest to the incessant fear mongering that slowly numbs us on a global scale." Balearic shores can be seen glimmering in the distance, whilst you are dragged by part man part (very horny) bull into the depths of dancefloor madness.

re:ni proves she is the captain of her own ship as sweet SSRI numbness billows in the sheets and fraying, dubwise halyards tether and tear through her devilishly elegant 'sertraline queen mix'. polyrhythms plotted and percussion plundered; the vocal from 'Golden Water Queen' sounds oh so sweet in the claws of its new Regina.

Hotly titted deep house reviver, fka boursin empties clips with their bubblegum 'boomkat mix,' of 'The Price,' swivelling the original's brash and bawdy bonce, to face a 120 reality we all need to wake up and start sniffing. Sprinkled with trauma on an icing of a bassline more than a little rood, boursin is packing enough cake for the whole function to take home in (dreadful) goody bags (and even allowed compression in the mastering - mental).

Last and indubitably not least, from lying somewhat dormant in the depths of UK dance music legend, none other than flippin' Untold (!?) rises to seal the release with typically megalithic prowess. Proving he was just resting his eyes for a bit, his 'A1 Mirabelle Mix,' weaves and whips an otherworldly beauty, technically tantalising 'Dham's Jam' in adornments both sour and sweet. It's nothing short of a cloaks and daggers banger, primed for the darkest of dancefloor cosmic moments, and serving as a little less-than-warm-reminder that Untold’s presence in the world of dance music is crucial as ever.

Frankly, if you couldn't tell from all the verbose waffle, they have all absolutely smashed and finessed it: they were all approached after expressing a real resonance from the previous releases and it's such an honour to have them and their fantastic visions on the label.

Available digitally or on high quality cassette, the final chapter of the Poorly Knit's first act has been woven whimsically into the fraying folds.

a A1. It Ain’t Over Till… 04:37
b A2. Wesley’s Sniped All Our Bleeding’ K (Re-Vamped) 05:40
[c] A3. Rockfall [05:06]
[d] A4. You Were Right [10:00
[e] B1. The Hand (dj_2button's accidental mood mix) [13:07]
[f] B2. Golden Water Queen (re:ni's sertraline queen mix) [05:36]
[g] B3. The Price (fka boursin's boomkat mix) [08:30]
[h] B4. Dham's Jam (Untold's A1 Mirabelle Mix) [09:42]

[a] A1. It Ain’t Over Till… [04:37]
[b] A2. Wesley’s Sniped All Our Bleeding’ K (Re-Vamped) [05:40]
[c] A3. Rockfall [05:06]
[d] A4. You Were Right [10:00
[e] B1. The Hand (dj_2button's accidental mood mix) [13:07]
[f] B2. Golden Water Queen (re:ni's sertraline queen mix) [05:36]
[g] B3. The Price (fka boursin's boomkat mix) [08:30]
[h] B4. Dham's Jam (Untold's A1 Mirabelle Mix) [09:42]

Wally Badarou is a synth pioneer and musical polymath. But rarely does he sing over his sumptuous tracks. The 6 songs that comprise new record Simple Things finally realise Wally's vision for select backing tracks from his beloved Colors Of Silence.

The tracks were originally developed back in 2001 for the release of the original CD; here, Wally has “simply" added overdubs and vocals to their mastered mixes with some discerning edits. Simply put, Simple Things is another slice of simply stunning Wally Badarou genius.

Simple Things has been decades in the making. Indeed, Wally struggled not only with the idea of singing these wonderful songs himself but singing them in English and writing his own lyrics, while wrestling with the sensational backing tracks, which themselves seemed to have taken on a life of their own.

As Wally explained to us: "In addition to the instrumental artist I have been known as, so far, there has always been a singer who simply was not sure he was, up until now. Even though “Back To Scales Tonight”, my very first album, was, indeed, a song album."

Opener "It Couldn't Be You" embellishes the uptempo groove of soca-funk gem "The Lights Of Kinshasa". As Wally explained to us, it's about “a simple love story somewhere, one rainy night, under the lights of Kinshasa. A woman, a man, online dating, quite usual in our times. Then they meet, almost missing each other." The guide vocal Wally had laid for Colors Of Silence - with an organ sound - seemed striving for words in Linguala, a Congolese language he could not speak. Therefore the decision to do it himself was not an easy one, for it had to be in English to fit his singing. We think it turned out pretty good!

"You Can't Hide Always" vocalises Wally's deep concerns set to the propulsive "Smiles By The Millions": "Populism, ostracism, radicalism, ethics and values all turned upside down worldwide, are they all inevitably exacerbated by our social networks? It could all melt down one day, like a house of cards in the ocean of fake news and false prophecies”. Wally wanted to keep the track as bare as possible but, inevitably, the backing vocals and the synth-brass arrive ultimately to present a welcome 70s flavour, with no snare-drum added.

The bright and breezy "We'll Make It Again" adds vocals to "Where Were We", a tropical, reggae-tinged bounce through the islands. Here's Waly: "Where were we when we last said: "I love you"? Simple words to express something quite common, but never quite simple to deal with. A simple song about the resilience of the broken hearts.” The reggae came from it being conceived when Wally was scoring for “Third World Cop”, a 1999 Jamaican action movie.

"Walk Straight Ahead" provides Wally's gorgeous, contemplative and idiosyncratic vocals to the deep serenity of Colors Of Silence highlight, "Amber Whispers". It's a gliding, divine, mini melodic masterpiece. It'll make you swoon in its extreme beauty. As Wally describes, "it started as just whispers, sweet amber whispers. Then the colour turned darker, as darker skies seemed to fall upon us while the whole world keeps on walking ahead, straight ahead, regardless of the blatant warnings, feeling much too comfortable in conformity. Initially, the verses were to be spoken only. I realised they could be sung all the while, without overshadowing the ethereal atmosphere." Amen.

The serene, celestial "Painting My Life Blue" presents the vocal version of "Days To Wonder". Says Wally, "how does it feel when your second half is gone after decades of riding life together? Past the temporary loss of your bearings, you come to realise you've been blind to the essential, and suddenly you can see...For this most intimate song of mine, I had tried to come up with a melody on top of the existing backing track, long before realising the melody was in the keyboard part already. It just needed to be properly mixed with it."

The profoundly emotional "Just Two Lovers" works up the formerly-too-brief and glorious "Crystal Falls" into a much fuller masterpiece and features acoustic guitar sparkle before fully glistening with some gentle head-nod percussion. Waly explains further: "Dear little green men, please tell me, what is it about us that makes you want to come and visit us so often (contrary to Fermi's assertion)? And here is the reply I believe I heard them sing: "You've got the key you've been searching for: Love”. I reverted to the initial backing track I had made around 1985, which already bore the melody, and which I added acoustic guitars to, before singing it." An astounding closer.

A synth specialist, there can be few artists more under-appreciated given their vast influence than Wally Badarou. His solo work practically defined the sound of the Balearic DJs of the 1980s, and thus the more sophisticated sound of dance culture thereafter. He was one of the Compass Point All Stars (with Sly and Robbie, Barry Reynolds, Mikey Chung and Uziah "Sticky" Thompson), the in-house recording team of Compass Point Studios responsible for a series of albums in the 1980s recorded by Grace Jones, Tom Tom Club, Mick Jagger, Black Uhuru, Gwen Guthrie, Jimmy Cliff and Gregory Isaacs. Badarou's keyboard playing could also be heard on albums by Robert Palmer, Marianne Faithfull, Herbie Hancock, M (Pop Muzik), Talking Heads, Manu Dibango and Miriam Makeba. He also produced Fela Kuti. Phew!

When we asked Wally about the significance of this collection's title, he explained: "These are "Simple things” that everyday’s life seems to build upon. The simplest are the harder to describe, but when satisfactorily described i.e. with simple words, they are the more genuine and authentic to express and share. I’ve immersed myself in other classic song lyrics, something I hardly did before, just to appreciate the genius behind the simple words they were made of, and had a great time studying how powerful they were in expressing complex ideas such as love."

Recording was twofold: first, most of the backing tracks were recorded in 2001, in Wally's studio in Normandy, mostly using hardware synths and Yamaha digital consoles. Then, he fine-tuned the melodies and wrote the lyrics in late 2023, then added some overdubs and sang them all during summer 2024. States Wally, "Digital Performer was and remains the DAW I’ve been using throughout, ever since the 80s."

Wally's sophisticated synth textures and expressive keyboard runs are so full of character, so full of life, that this work of art transcends any easy genre categorisation. Meticulously remastered and cut by both Simon Francis and Cicely Balston respectively, it has been pressed to the highest possibly quality at Record Industry in Holland. Sometimes, the simple things are the most extraordinary.

In 2047, amidst the deafening yet oh-so-familiar soundscape of the Movement Festival in Detroit, we met again: I, pdqb, and Scape One, known as two of the most respected electronic music composers worldwide. The air pulsed not only with the latest beats but also with a barely perceptible energy only the two of us knew. We hadn't simply flown in; we'd arrived with our fantastic "Diskmind" time-travel machine, an incredible invention, capable of effortlessly catapulting us through the centuries.

"It's unbelievable, isn't it?" I shouted over the bass, eyebrows raised. "A machine that lets us travel through all of history, and there isn't a single song that honors it! Not one!"
Scape One nodded vigorously, his gaze sweeping over the stage lights. "That's absurd! How can such a revolutionary invention remain unsung? It's almost an insult to music history itself."
We looked at each other, a silent understanding in our gazes. The mission was clear: The "Diskmind" needed its anthems. And who, if not us, who used and loved it, should create them?

And so, we decided to become the musical chroniclers of the "Diskmind," ready to tell the story of our time machine across four different eras...

For Synaptic Cliffs, it's an extraordinary honor to present these three Scape One variations of the original song 'Diskmind' (first released on The Electrifying Dojo, 2025). Each masterpiece was recorded in different future decades of the 21st century (of ourse with the help of the Diskmind time travel machine) and reflects the corresponding trend in electronic music. A1: A timeless, pristine Electro composition from the year 2035. A2: An IDM marvel from late summer 2075, recorded in the Zero gravity of Space Station 775. B: An Experimental Electronica symphony recorded at pdqb's Studio 577 on Mars Outpost 47A. Only musical equipment that doesn't currently exist was used for this release

Carly Simon’s quietly intense sophomore album comes across like an assertive notice nailed to a telephone pole for all to see. Bold, personal, and autobiographical, Anticipation announces the arrival of an artist who won’t back down. While Simon stands her ground on her eponymous debut, she elevates her passion and persona to heightened levels throughout this gold-certified record, dealing in private matters related to love, relationships, and desire. At times, Simon is nothing short of primal. She reflects on the difficulties of retaining your own identity while also giving yourself to a partner. Simon’s connection to her folk roots would never be stronger.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 45RPM 2LP set of Anticipation lays bare the rich tapestries afforded by the spare blend of soft guitars, mellow orchestration, and dreamy melodies. Audiophiles and record collectors, take note: This is the first time Anticipation has been available on 45RPM. The wider grooves and dead-quiet surfaces prove extremely rewarding.

The rhythmic framework anchored by session pro Andy Newmark’s drumming sounds dynamic and balanced, with songs benefiting from a focused midrange and taut low-end. Simon’s attachment to and investment in each lyric is made evident by way of the intimate, hushed atmospherics and expansive responsiveness. And just as Simon’s vocals feel more transparent and direct, so, too, do the supporting choral arrangements.

Released before the singer-songwriter movement reached full bloom, Anticipation remains remarkable for the high-quality songwriting and Simon’s gutsy stance. The album cover — depicting the vocalist holding the gates at Queen Mary’s Garden in Regent’s Park and seemingly defying anyone to take her on — serves as a metaphor for the content within.

Known for having relationships with high-profile partners, Simon was heavily involved with Cat Stevens leading up to the recording of Anticipation. She draws from her experiences to craft tunes that resonate because of their honesty, realism, and strength. Few of those moments are better known than the Top 20 title track, which Simon composed in just 15 minutes as she waited for Stevens to pick her up for a date. Imbued with the nervousness, tension, and excitement that accompany the moments when a romance could go either way, the Grammy-nominated song presages the feminist-minded vulnerability and burning longing that informs a majority of the record.

On the soulful “Legend in Your Own Time,” also inspired by Stevens, Simon harnesses yearning as a conduit to feel-good paradise. Deemed by Rolling Stone an “absolute clincher, an awesome description of the psychic ravages of gone-nuts, know-nothing love,” her cover of Kris Kristofferson’s “I’ve Got to Have You” moans with no-holds-barred desire and breathtaking sensuality.

For all the wanting Simon pursues on Anticipation, her way of staying in control — vocally and personally — make the record a courageous statement of contemporary femininity. For further evidence, look to the bossa nova of “Summer’s Coming Around Again,” somber “Share the End,” soothing “Three Days,” and sincere “Julie Through the Glass,” a tribute to her young niece.

Simon would achieve international fame with her next album, No Secrets. Yet as this definitive reissue shows, Anticipation suggests the rest of the world was just a little late catching up to her.

Rythm Of Paradise launches his brand new label “Ritmo Adriatico” with "Divina EP", a sonic manifesto of Italian house music. This four-track journey blends the power of main stages with the warm intimacy of clubs, always driven by a profoundly Mediterranean soul. A first release that doesn't just present a sound, but tells a story.

The EP opens with main track "Divina" , powerful and immediate groove built for the dance floor, wrapped in warm atmospheres and bright pads that create a sense of high energy, with emotional breaks that reminds French Kiss sound.

Followed by its remixed version of Divina by St. David where he reimagined and elevate the impact on main stages. The bass becomes more prominent, the groove expands, and the voice became more hypnotice, without ever falling into cliché.

B1. Italia Novanta is where, Ritmo Adriatico reveals its beating heart. "Italia novanta " is a respectful and modern tribute to the golden era of Italo House, diving into the Mediterranean soul of the 90s, reinterpreted with today's power.

Closing with B2. Te Quiero where takes the dreamy atmospheres and immerses them in a deep, meditative dub treatment of spacious bass lines and captivating Italo house piano licks.

Written and Produced by Michele Lamacchia.
Mixed & Mastered by St. David

Dense, deep, drifting in the universe between dream, memory and reality.
Thought-provoking impulses with a philosophical background add an empathetic component to the power of the narrators' words in a charismatic way.
The common thread running through the four tracks like a warm red ribbon is a homage to the freedom of the individual.
A utopian sound clip that tells of acceptance and departure.

"All I Do Is Dreaming" is the band's third album.

A journey that takes you through various landscapes—gliding over electronic plains, climbing colorful pop hills, and occasionally venturing onto rugged indie rock trails.

Along the way, several encounters: a stop in Mexico with a remix by CLUZ, a collaboration in the UK with boundary-crossing indie artist Just Jack, and in the US with artist Pedro Blue.

Camel Power Club has never been more open to the fusion of ideas and talents—and it suits them perfectly.

Aimer Perdre is a movie by the Guit Brothers and tells the story of Armande Pigeon; the queen of shenanigans. In Brussels, she struggles to make ends meet because she can’t stop gambling on everything, always ending up on the wrong side of luck. When she teams up with Ronnie one night, everything changes – they win it all. And when you hit a winning streak, you have to know when to stop.

For Aimer Perdre, Brooklyn NY native Simon Hanes travelled to Brussels in order to work directly with the directors, synchronizing the editing of the film with the composition of the soundtrack so that both processes would influence each other. Hanes and the Guits spent 3 months working alongside each other almost every day, passing ideas back and forth and allowing the soundtrack to grow organically. The music is an honest representation of Hanes’ experiences over those months, which he spent couch surfing across Brussels, sharing meals and ideas with new friends in broken refrains of French and English – falling asleep at the Cinémathèque, and occasionally breaking into abandoned buildings…but thats a story for another time.

Throughout all this, Simon hired musicians he met in bars, members of the Brussels experimental/artistic community, singers from a choir that was rehearsing in the squat where the Guits built their editing room…All the while sculpting the soundtrack out of these seemingly dissolute elements and constantly blurring the line between the compositional process and his day to day life.

Finally the process culminated in hiring the FAMES string orchestra for ONE SINGLE HOUR (all they could afford) to achieve the full orchestral sound the film’s climax so clearly needed.

The end result, like the film itself, is a reflection of life – a hodgepodge of sounds, colors and ideas that come together to create a beautiful, unique tapestry, sometimes harmonious, other times less so.

Comes with a limited edition flexidisc with a bonus track.

he initial seed for this project was planted in 2020 when Nicolás Jaar wrote the song “Piedras” for a concert at the Museum of Memory & Human Rights in Santiago, Chile, which commemorates the victims of human rights violations during the military dictatorship led by Augusto Pinochet between 1973 and 1990. Between 2022-2023 it took on a new form as a radio play entitled 'Archivos de Radio Piedras', which was shared on a dedicated Telegram channel. In 2024, the play was converted into a 24 channel installation at the University Museum of Mexico City (MUAC), where it was exhibited for 5 months.

Piedras 1 and 2 is a collection of the tracks featured within the play, all new music by Jaar, but partly presented within the play as the music of Salinas Hasbún (the name a composite homage to Jaar's grandmothers, Graciela Salinas and Miriam Hasbún).

The play follows two friends mourning the disappearance of Salinas Hasbún, a musician and writer who vanished in the early 2020s. Although they live in a future where technology is advanced, they
resort to DIY radio methods because the anonymous group “Las 0cho” has launched a worldwide attack on undersea internet cables, causing a global internet blackout.

The play's central theme revolves around the idea that truths, memories and identities speak from the cracks (“rasgaduras”), or the "in-between" spaces ("en el entre"). This concept is supported by the
way much of the narration unfolds - in the liminal spaces between radio frequencies. The instability and transitory nature of a constantly shifting radio dial becomes not just a metaphor but the structure of the play itself. It’s in these moments of noise, static and interference that the deeper revelations of the story emerge. This disjointed, ever-changing medium mirrors the way memory and trauma operate within the play - non-linear, slipping through the gaps, found in fragments or ordinary moments, rather than direct transmissions of “official” historical accounts.

This notion reaches its climax at the end of the narrative, when a text is discovered in which Salinas speaks of finding a new number in a small pond in a cave mentioned in the first episodes of the radio play. This pond, inside the “cochlea of the world”, is seen as a way to introduce real-life randomness to computation. Embodied in the salt lakes of northern Chile, home to the world’s oldest bacteria, this randomness disrupts the rigid order of binary code, paving the way for a transformation of digital life.

First solo release by Nicolás Jaar since 2020’s Telas and Cenizas.

To coincide with its 20th anniversary, Clint Mansell's haunting score to Darren Aronofsky's 2000 film, Requiem for a Dream, performed by Kronos Quartet, returns to vinyl. This was Mansell’s second of several collaborations with Aronofsky, following 1997’s π, and features arrangements by David Lang of Bang on a Can. The film stars Academy Award-winner Ellen Burstyn, Jared Leto, Jennifer Connelly and Marlon Wayans, and was adapted from the 1978 novel by Hubert Selby, Jr. (Last Exit to Brooklyn), who also wrote the screenplay with Aronofsky. Set on the rusted mean streets of Coney Island, Brooklyn, Requiem for a Dream tells the parallel stories of four people pursuing their dreams of better lives. The reissue features the original soundtrack, plus two bonus tracks.

Clint Mansell, a musician, composer, and founding member of the band Pop Will Eat Itself, first worked with Darren Aronofsky on the score for his 1998 film π. Also released by Nonesuch are Mansell’s scores for Aronofsky's The Fountain (2006), nominated for a Golden Globe, and Noah (2014). His other scores include The Wrestler (2008), Moon (2009), Black Swan (2010), Filth (2013), Stoker (2013), High Rise (2016), for which he received an Ivor Novello nomination, and Loving Vincent (2017).

For more than 40 years, San Francisco’s Kronos Quartet – David Harrington (violin), John Sherba (violin), Hank Dutt (viola), and Sunny Yang (cello) – has combined a spirit of fearless exploration with a commitment to continually re-imagining the string quartet experience. In the process, Kronos has become one of the world’s most celebrated and influential ensembles, performing thousands of concerts, releasing more than 50 recordings, collaborating with many of the world’s most eclectic composers and performers, and commissioning over 850 works and arrangements for string quartet. A Grammy winner, Kronos is also the only recipient of both the Polar Music Prize and the Avery Fisher Prize. Most recently, in 2019, Nonesuch released Kronos’s ground-breaking collaboration with composer Terry Riley, Sun Rings, and, in 2017, Folk Songs, featuring Sam Amidon, Olivia Chaney, Rhiannon Giddens and Natalie Merchant.

Schlammpeiziger, who had previously only been known to us for his top hits and T-shirts, burst upon us like a wild boar in search of affection in the middle of the coronavirus lockdown. He nested in our fully vaccinated home, drank our Eversbusch, ate from our plates, slept in our bed (wait - wrong fairy tale) and repeatedly urged us to organise egg runs with his testicles (after some contortions, we gave up trying). Childish faecal humour, far-fetched obs(t)enities, juicing, a desire to dissolve, composting of thoughts. In excesses of lack of concentration, the chains of associations curled and meandered like Jo's famous curlicue drawings. Every evening, after we had forcibly levered him out of our flat, he would ‘walk’ home to put together very unique , dreamy pieces. In the blissful brainfog of those days, for example, ‘Handicapfalter’ was created, for which the congenial °Bär° made our flat into the corresponding video. Among other quirks of the little gut-breather, we were fascinated to observe his phobia of literature and books. Just hold a printed page in front of his face for a few seconds and he writhes on the floor crying. A level of phobia that only my own laughable disgust and fear of writing myself can compete with. Jo shudders at the thought of reading sentences that build on each other in a meaningful way, and I shudder at the thought of having to write them down because I have something ‘to say’. A certain affinity cannot be denied. We are much, much more pleased by snatched-up, misunderstood or misheard snippets, hollow but unforgettable phrases, the diamond stoner humour of our ancestors. ‘From one turn/ I stop/ to walk on/ in all directions’ (as it murmurs in “Selten Gesehenes”), describes the process quite nicely. After all, Jo is ahead of me in that he can simply break off every tedious sentence and let it fade into music. Back to the essentials. It's five to 12 for the Schlammpeitzger (scientifically Misgurnus). The shy goby is under threat from climate change, so perhaps this vinyl is the last expression of life of the specimen that we have been allowed to look after sporadically since the lockdown phase of the corona epidemic. And it's turned out pretty. Even the aesthetically gutted like me and my beloved husband can THINK about sex when they see these sublime, silvery fart bubbles! It's tender as a fart. Make love!!!!!

Schamlose Dubtöse: Do you have words. Do you have sounds. Impertinently harmless piano tinkling turns into tugging zounds of increasing severity. It is not dubbed (would be unethical) but dubbed. Sounds dubby, as you can imagine. (Instrumental)

Loch ohne Licht: Possibly vaguely misogynistic. Could also be that there was simply no light in the hole. The sparse snippet of lyrics (‘du biss mir och esu e Loch ohne Licht’) sounds like one of those stroppy Cologne replicas whose anti-charm is hard to resist. Buzzing and grooving.

Selten Gesehenes: Casual. Confident. Soft. Fragrant. Thoughtful but lively.

The Arabian Vietmanese (instrumental) is probably the food we trust in the case of the munchies we get when we watch other people smoking weed. Transcendental and psychedelic states casually permeate the humdrum of everyday life. Klar Knuspermarsch: Marches and floats at the same time. Klebt Runner: Soundtrack to the cult film of the same name. Tyrrell Corporation loosens up. Ungenutzte Sätze: Stinks somehow, because there is dangerous proximity to comprehensible and then also critical statements here. Instead, the sinister electronic cheapness of Carpenter soundtracks can be heard. Parzipan: Actually, the time of origin was not so roaringly funny and simple, but for Jo it was also a gruelling, slow letting go of his brother. Here he sends him off with a gentle nudge into the vastness of a hopefully happy beyond.

Clara Drechsler

Schlammpeiziger, der uns bislang nur durch seine Top-Hits und seine T-Shirts bekannt gewesen war, brach mitten im Corona-Lockdown über uns herein wie ein wilder Eber auf der Suche nach Zuwendung. Er nistete sich in unserem durchgeimpften Zuhause ein, trank unseren Eversbusch, aß von unseren Tellerchen, schlief in unserem Bettchen (Moment - falsches Märchen) drängte uns wiederholt dazu, mit seinen Hoden Eierlauf zu veranstalten (nach Verrenkungen gaben wir den Versuch auf). Kindischer Fäkalhumor, weit hergeholte Obs(t)zönitäten, Entsaftung, Auflösungswunsch, Gedankenkompostierung. In Exzessen der Konzentrationsschwäche ringelten, kringelten und schlängelten sich die Assoziationsketten wie bei Jos berühmten Kringel-Schlängel-Zeichnungen. Jeden Abend, nachdem wir ihn gewaltsam aus unserer Wohnung gehebelt hatten, „ging“ er dann heim, um dort sehr eigene, verträumte Stücke zusammenzubasteln. Im seligen Brainfog dieser Tage entstand z.B. „Handicapfalter“, für das der kongeniale °Bär° aus unserer Wohnung das entsprechende Video machte. Neben anderen Marotten des kleinen Darmatmers beobachteten wir fasziniert seine Literatur- bzw. Bücherphobie. Halt ihm nur sekundenlang eine bedruckte Seite vors Gesicht, und er windet sich weinend am Boden. Ein Grad an Phobizität, mit dem sich nur meine eigene lachhafte Abscheu und Angst vor dem Selberschreiben messen kann. Jo schaudert beim Gedanken, sinnvoll aufeinander aufbauende Sätze lesen, mir wiederum beim Gedanken, sie hinschreiben zu müssen, weil ich irgendetwas „zu sagen“ habe. Eine gewisse Verwandtschaft ist nicht zu leugnen. Viel, viel mehr freuen uns aufgeschnappte, falsch verstandene oder misshörte Fetzen, hohle, aber unvergessliche Phrasen, der diamantene Kifferhumor unserer Vorfahren. „Aus einer Drehung/bleibe ich stehen/ um in alle Richtungen/weiter zu gehen“ (wie es in „Selten Gesehenes“ raunt), beschreibt den Prozess schon ganz schön. Immerhin hat Jo mir voraus, dass er jeden leidigen Satz einfach abbrechen und in Musik ausplempern lassen darf. Zurück zum Wesentlichen. Es ist fünf vor 12 für den Schlammpeitziger (wissenschaftlich Misgurnus). Die scheue Grundel ist von Klimawandel bedroht, vielleicht haltet ihr mit diesem Vinyl also die letzte Lebensäußerung des Exemplars in Händen, das wir seit der Lockdownphase der Corona-Epidemie sporadisch betreuen durften. Und die ist hübsch geworden. Selbst aus ästhetischer Erwägungen Entdarmte wie ich und mein geliebter Mann, können bei diesen sublimen, silberhellen Pupsbläschen DENNOCH an Sex denken! It´s zart as a fart. Make love!!!!!

Schamlose Dubtöse: Hast du Worte. Hast du Töne. Impertinent harmloses Klavierplätschern geht über in ziepende Zounds von zunehmender Strenge. Es wird nicht domptiert (wäre unethisch) sondern dubtiert. Klingt dubtig, wie ihr euch vorstellen könnt. (Instrumental)

Loch ohne Licht. Möglicherweise vage misogyn. Könnte auch sein, dass im Loch einfach kein Licht war. Das sparsame Textfetzchen („du biss mir och esu e Loch ohne Licht“) klingt nach einer jener pampigen kölschen Repliken, deren Anticharme man sich schwer entziehen kann. Schwirrt und groovt.

Selten Gesehenes: Lässig. Souverän. Softig. Duftig. Nachdenklich aber beschwingt.

Beim Arabischen Vietmanesen (Instrumental) gibt es wahrscheinlich die Speise unseres Vertrauens im Falle der Munchies, die wir kriegen, wenn wir anderen Leuten beim Kiffen zusehen. Transzendentale und psychedelische Zustände durchziehen beiläufig den schnöden Alltag. Klar Knuspermarsch: Marschiert und schwebt zugleich.

Klebt Runner: Soundtrack zum gleichnamigen Kultfilm. Tyrrell Corporation macht sich locker. Ungenutzte Sätze: Stinks irgendwie, weil hier gefährliche Nähe zu nachvollziehbarer und dann auch noch kritischer Aussage gegeben ist. Dafür klingt die sinistre elektronische Billigkeit von Carpenter-Soundtracks an.

Parzipan: Eigentlich war die Entstehungszeit gar nicht so brüllend lustig und einfach, sondern für Jo auch ein zermürbendes, langsames Loslassen des Bruders. Hier schickt er ihn mit sanftem Schubs hinaus in die Weiten eines hoffentlich schönen Jenseits.

Clara Drechsler
Downloads

On his latest full-length, Low End Activist swerves towards weightless grime and suspended hardcore miniatures to tell a very personal story. The UK-rooted producer continues his habit of zeroing in on a distinct approach for each release, leaving a logical breadcrumb trail of soundsystem science in his wake as he channels decades of bass absorption into 14 atmospheric cuts that prize patience and precision over obvious club functionality.

Municipal Dreams plays out as a semi-autobiographical tour through the Blackbird Leys estate that the Activist grew up on. It’s a lived reflection on inequality and the ripple effect it has in working class communities, using the sonic palette to set the mood and scattering pointed samples throughout to spell out the story.

In sampling the exhaust of a stolen Subaru Impreza, ‘TWOC’ looks back to the recreational car theft which was standard entertainment for the kids in his community. There’s an underlying idea that this ‘council estate sport’ wouldn’t have been so prevalent if there were public services and opportunities presented to the scores of disaffected youth looking for somewhere to direct their energy and frustration.

In ‘Just A Number (Institutionalised)’ LEA alludes to the shattered juvenile detention system, growing up seeing friends and family members locked up at ease with little to no support on being released back into society, just meant that the same cycles of behaviour would play out over and over.

‘Violence’ samples from a short film shot by the drama division of the Blackbird Leys Youth Club to evoke the physical threat which formed a background hum to life on the estate. The industrial mechanics of the local car factory, which served an integral role as a workplace for many in the community, gets sampled in ‘They Only Come Out At Night’ while the ‘Everyone I look up to are either junkies or criminals’ sample in ‘Broke’ looks to a lack of positive role models.

Municipal Dreams isn’t a one-note indictment of life on the estate, ‘Innocence’ captures the simplicity of a child at birth before their environment has time to shape them. The Hope interludes cut through the grim honesty of the longer tracks while a subtle thread of wry humour finds its way into some of the talking heads cutting through the signature LEA murk.

But honesty is the operative word here, and the message feels all the more meaningful at a time when the UK’s social divisions are laid bare in the wake of a devastating stretch of austerity. Returning to Blackbird Leys to shoot images for the photo-zine and album cover, the Activist found the local community centre being demolished. The local pub stands derelict, its faded Welcome sign a grimly ironic portent of the options facing children of the estate in the wider world.

Funnelling his memories, hopes and fears into a singular twist on the bass weight tradition, LEA captures evocative scenes that land somewhere between kitchen sink realism and rave futurism.

The package, posted from Inglewood in California, dropped through my letter box…
I was looking forward to seeing this, the VHS of the then relatively ‘unknown’ but now legendary live show at the Saenger Theatre in New Orleans by Maze featuring Frankie Beverly. But when I fed it into my VHS player, I was disappointed. I could not quite figure out why. The band were tight, each musician sounded great, the product of being on the road, year after year, club after club in the States, sometimes playing five shows a night, all propped up by one of the best soulful voices we had ever heard, the maestro Frankie Beverly.
It took a second play of the VHS to realise what was missing. It was ‘too comfortable’ an atmosphere. A few wealthy customers sat around coffee tables quaffing champagne. It seemed to me that this audience, somehow, did not fit the band.
Paul Fenn at Asgard promotions received the contract from the band to appear live in London and Manchester. I became more and more convinced that his UK fans were going to be a lot more responsive than those from New Orleans.
We put the word out with just a couple of exclusive ‘shout outs’ by Robbie Vincent on his Radio London Soul programme. Those two plugs were enough to sell out all four shows at London’s premier music venue, the Hammersmith Odeon. The ticket office was rammed and the queue six deep, stretched halfway down Queen Caroline Street.
“I have never seen anything like it” expressed the manager of the theatre as he rolled down the shutters and turned on the “Sorry, SOLD OUT” notice above the theatre box office.
I was curious, so I went up and stood in the wings of the Hammersmith stage on that first show. Frankie, introduced to the stage by his sound engineer, Greg Blockman, sauntered past me, strumming his rhythm guitar, dressed in a casual dark green towelling suit, a brown leather visor and flip flops…and then five seconds later, he suddenly stopped. He seemed suddenly to be aware of the thunderous ’Welcome to London Maze’ roar, circling around the theatre about to engulf him. He slapped every black and white hand offered up to him that night, with a huge smile as he circled the edge of that stage. We wanted to get next to him, even if it meant climbing over rows of seats in front of us to do so.
That was the beginning of our love affair with Maze and Frankie Beverly. It certainly wasn’t New Orleans comfort; it was more like a crazy, but friendly, London riot.
Five albums on from the “Live in New Orleans” LP, Frankie sauntered into the California recording studio, probably with the same swagger as in London, to cut the delightful A-side here, “Somebody Else’s Arms”, from his aptly named ‘Silky Soul’ album. Along with the B-side, ‘Love is’ (from the “Back To Basics” CD, 1993) both are so delicious you might want to relax and pour yourself that London glass of champagne, 1983 vintage. Tell your mates your Maze/Hammersmith story too. You deserve it.

This batch of releases is what Deeper Knowledge Records is really all about - showcasing and making available fantastic music that has been rarefied, but with no correlation to its quality. That is to say, music that we feel is every bit as great as well known, much-loved and canonized classics, but just never reached the ears of as many folks, only due to its unavailability. And the music made by the close-knit foursome of Trevor Byfield and Clive Matthews as artists, and Norman "Fox Fire" Vassell and the late Clinton "Percival" Williams as producers, is just that. Starting in the late '70s and into the early '80s, this foursome cut some of the best and heaviest roots reggae tunes of the era. We will be issuing eight great singles from these folks. Trevor Byfield's "Tell Me That You Love Me" is one of the most dread love songs that we've heard, and the flip is one of the most truly psychedelic, heavy and unique Tubby's dubs ever mixed. In fact, the crew liked this rhythm for this song so much that they cut three tunes on it!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Apathy Is Death’ is a precisely engineered, restless and longing work of experimental bass music. Tinkah has created a sonic landscape that is both mesmerising and haunting.

The fundamental note is tension as he speaks a tale of ego and its myriad manifestations.. highs & lows. Climax & anticlimax. Adoration & pity. A 12” quest through the taverns of retrospect.

The 6 tracks, live arranged on a MPC alongside a whimsical bounty of synths & effects, are packed rich with cinematic soundscapes, driving rhythms and an ever evolving temper.

Inspired by true events and adorned with sounds from his world. ‘Apathy Is Death’ tells the parable of being jointly lost and found in the intensity of life.







e B2. Skin 22 Feat. Arpen Daks

A new artist on the Citizen Records / Clivage Music roster, Vhinz is a musician based in Brussels. After taking his time to break onto the electronic scene, he’s now ready to share Belvédère, his debut, dreamlike album, confidently intense, sweeping between cinematic songs and soaring, epic electronic sounds.

Vincent Honca is Belgian, with Armenian roots and a love of keyboards: the mini synth he used to play as a child, the classical piano of his years of training at the Académie de Musique, the Yamaha synth of his teenage years... During the noughties of his adolescence, electronic music was omnipresent in his life as he listened to and admired Daft Punk, Moby, Vitalic, Air and The Chemical Brothers. He also went out dancing, a lot, in the nightclubs and parties of Brussels and the vicinity, and soon his love of computers, technology and synthesisers led to him producing his own music. “I wanted to create beautiful textures with synths,” he says. “I wanted to have fun and discover the possibilities. As part of the internet generation, I taught myself everything I know through reading magazines and checking the forums.”

Vincent went on to become a computer programmer and decided to make music in as much of his spare time as possible. His first productions came out in 2015, including “Drastical”, one of three deep house dancefloor-orientated tracks recorded with none other than Kris Menace. “At the time I was really searching for my musical identity,” explains Vincent, and progressively his music started to lean towards another of his passions – films and film music. “I’ve listened to soundtracks a lot since I was a teenager, and they’ve been a big influence, in particular the music for Heat by Elliot Goldenthal, Gladiator (Hans Zimmer), Saving Private Ryan (John Williams), The Last Temptation of Christ (Peter Gabriel), The Virgin Suicides (Air) and Leon (Eric Serra).” Coincidentally, Vincent has already worked on two independent Belgian films by director Christophe Karabache, UltravoKal and Vortex, both collaborations with Michel Duprez.

Now Vincent has chosen the name Vhinz, bringing together his expertise with machines and computers, his passion and enthusiasm for the electronic sounds of his adolescence and his adoration of cinema’s powerful, impactful soundtracks. Vhinz’s first track is thus called “Aether”, a track brimming with character and confidence, with sung-spoken vocals that sweeps the listener up in bewitching synthetic themes and drums like an off- kilter heartbeat. The track perfectly encapsulates the Vhinz sound, and Citizen Records – the only label he sent it to – immediately loved it and were ready to release a 12” with more. “Then Covid and the lockdown happened, and everything came to a complete halt,” remembers Vhinz. During those long two years without anything being released, the project continued its gestation and has now grown in a mini-album of eight coherent, fascinating tracks. “I really wanted a strong concept for everything, and so was born this album that I’ve called Belvédère. I imagined myself on a belvedere with a panoramic view of the world, channelling all the emotions it elicited in me into music.”

Belvédère is a dreamlike debut album, confidently intense, sweeping between cinematic songs and soaring, epic electronic sounds. It’s a place for Vhinz to showcase his dreams, talk, sing and invite others too: Margot Ferro sings on “Le Passage” and “Envole-moi”, and Michael Meers lends his vocals to “Evolution”. “My album tells a story, with the tracks in chronological order. There are both times of hope and darker periods of my life, with sadness and love,” meaning that listeners are invited to experience a suite of different emotions and be swept along by the author’s musical daydreams. Musically, the album falls somewhere between Moby, Vitalic, Air and Serge Gainsbourg, with a density and atmosphere that are completely Vhinz. “With Belvédère I was looking for beauty, but also something darker, dirtier, more organic. The album is the culmination of that.”

Psycho 2000 - A dark but funky theme that begins with an occulting Italian echo-oscillator drone that is soon followed by pulsating bass and breakbeat drums, leads to tremolo guitars, an ostinato on electric mandolas, strings climbing eloquent ladders, otherworldly electronics, and a cinematic finale.
An evocation of a parade of wooden nutcracker soldiers elaborately dressed in gold-trimmed black uniforms down a wide avenue decorated with mardi gras beads and animal skulls upon golden cobblestones toward a tornado spiralling out purple-hued glissandos and curlicues of elephant smoke.

White Spiritual - Head nod action, the twinkling of a late 60’s Vox Continental II with sickly transistors, the noodling matrix of an intergalactic telephone exchange carried on a bed of bouncy bass with a firm backbeat.
The Johnny Guitar Watson-esque bite and sting of a ‘67 Teisco guitar preludes slabs of unison dark brown moog and organ giving way to the dance of fingers over the black naturals and white sharps of the Continental II.

After last year’s Black Clouds Above The Bows, Amsterdam-based collective Wanderwelle presents the second entry of their trilogy for Important Records, which is dedicated to telling the story of the climate crisis and its effects on coastal areas around the globe. For this album the artists incorporated the sound of a dying organ, fatally wounded in a climate related event.

All Hands Bury The Cliffs At Sea consists of electro-acoustic threnodies for an environment at risk due to the effects caused by receding coastlines around the globe. Wailing odes tell the story of the catastrophic activity of eroding waves and winds shaping the land that are enhanced by the climate crisis. First hand experiences and meetings with local maritime experts on the subject of these receding coastlines inspired Wanderwelle to compose these albums.

During their travels, the artists stumbled upon a small church in a town on the east coast of Scotland. The building was quite damaged, the roof was being stabilized and the ancient walls showed great tears running vertically down the structure. One of the church’s volunteers told Wanderwelle that the damage had been caused by a nearby cliff that collapsed in the sea. An event increasingly common in the region.

The church organ was ruined in such a way that it was deemed unplayable, as most of the pipes were gravely damaged and in dire need of restoration. Musical instruments directly affected by the environment -and especially the climate crisis- are quite rare. Despite the damage, the artists were allowed to record a few tones of the instrument with their equipment, which was actually meant to be used for field recordings later that day.

In Black Clouds Above The Bows, antique cavalry trumpets were recorded and manipulated by Wanderwelle to sound an environmental alarm in the same manner as they were once used to warn men on the battlefield. Similar processing was used on the recordings of the dying organ, resulting in spectral, deconstructed tones beyond recognition. In addition to the damaged organ, the artists recorded piano, cello and harmonic additive synthesizers in later stages of the composition process, manipulating these sounds to mimic the perpetual activity of the sea shaping the land.Furthermore, a great deal of inspiration was found in maritime superstition, lore and mythology.

As told in the legend of Aspidochelone, a legendary sea creature of enormous size, was once mistaken for an island. After sailors docked and lit a fire, the beast submerged resembling a land mass sliding into the sea. The album’s title is derived from the saying ‘All Hands Bury The Dead’, a maritime burial phrase, as the duo likes to think ‘All Hands’ refers to all of mankind since we are all responsible for these impending catastrophes.

Cello, violin, voice, pipe organ (damaged), bowed guitar, EBow, Prophet-6 synthesizer, modular synthesizer, field recordings.

RIYL: Oliveros/Deep Listening, Arvo Part, Lambda Sond, Sarah Davachi

KingUnderground presents a stunning collection of 8 releases pressed onto 7” vinyl from the Cavendish Music catalogue. Paying homage to the genre of Library Music, furthering its exposure to a new generation of listeners.
Library Music experienced its heyday in the 60s and 70s, as thousands of instrumental tracks were produced by musicians and composers for the purpose of placements in Radio, Television, and Film. This rich piece of European music history would go on to inform genres to come and speak heavily to the Jazz, Funk, and Hip Hop communities of the future.
This was often a musician's first opportunity to become a composer, or what most would commonly know now as producer of music. These composers would work with a stable of musicians to record 100’s of tracks that would go into a publishing Library. The pieces of music were recorded quickly and deliberately. The composers, musicians, and engineers understood their role in the process, it was an act of discipline amongst all involved. Often the composer was given a brief on what the end goal was for the client. The specifics would include tempo to lock into, song ending time, ect.
Never before have these tracks from the Cavendish Music Library been pressed on 7” vinyl at 45RPM. In all there will be 8 individual 45s, licensed from Boosey & Hawkes & Cavendish Music Library. The collection includes compositions by Tony Kinsey, John Scott, Sam Fonteyn, Ray Davies, and more.

There’s a boldness to Library music. It's in the forward nature of where the drums sit in the mix and the percussive playing of the keys that gives you something to grab hold of, it feels grounded yet exciting. It’s music beamed in from a different galaxy!

The Tel-Aviv centered Yotam Avni officially joined forces with Stroboscopic Artefacts last year, turning in a sensual an invigorating entry for the Monad series. Thanks to his personalized fusion of esoteric and worldly sound elements, Avni immediately made a case to deliver more work to the label, and now he has done so with 'Perlude to Dybbuk,' the second in a new series of S.A. releases to feature the Oblique Artefacts visual team's distinct, elegant portrayals of scanned foliage. As with Avni's previous Monad contribution, the new Perlude to Dybbuk makes references - both in title and in sonic content - to the ancient Hebrew folklore of his homeland (a 'dybbuk' being a kind of limbonic spirit attaching itself to the body of a living human until it has successfully reached its final destination). However, the atmospheric, rather than overt, use of these references gives this record a level of dignity and quality as well as a premonitory feeling that hovers over the proceedings.The opening 'Avka (New Life)' opens with the twin stimuli of chthonic, rolling percussion and ambience that has become a modern Stroboscopic tradition, but ever so gradually deviates from the realm of the easily anticipated. Some of the surprises to be found here are sharp, organic drum fills and sighing strings that have an uncanny vocal quality to them. By the time a surgically clipped acid synth sample comes into the mix, the track has reached a simmering level of excitement and the listener's imagination will have license to reside in a virtual world seamlessly combining elements both ancient and futuristic.Dybbuk' temporarily situates listeners back in brutal modernity, with the first sounds heard being something like insistently slicing helicopter blades. Avni merely uses this as the foundation, though, for a genuinely unique construction whose shamanic beats, throttled horn and undertow of frenzied electronics combine to give the feeling of being menaced and eventually overtaken by a spirit entity. This piece shows just what Avni is capable when operating in a more aggressive, 'post-industrial' mode, and the result stands up with some of the best exponents of that genre.The finale 'Modern Matters' is the most readily club-friendly selection from the disc. This potent, floor-shaking and perspiration-inducing number superimposes resonant vocals from traditional Middle Eastern folk song onto this alchemical mixture of machine oil and sweat, and provides a romantic flair without resorting to naïve, touristic 'ethno-techno.' Avni's skillful dedication to counterpoint, and determination to make a finished form is more than the sum of its parts, shines through here and throughout the duration of this record.

The sixth release of Form and Function, is the second one of the Function series. This time it's Qindek who provides his debut EP on the label. 'Reach For The Cosmica' is a lovely journey through Qindek's world. It's the perfect combination of both abstract and functional. The weird meets the wonderful. The package is topped of by Setaoc Mass who does an incredible job remixing Takes A pad.

On the A-side, the first track is 'Climate Shift'. A track that tells a story through dubby elements and chords, backed by a powerful and thumping low end. A movement of continuous energy and subtle but noticeable changes which have an impact on the track as a whole can be seen as the precursor for cosmic endeavors.

Next up is 'Reach For The Cosmica', the second track of this release. It's an epitome of the soundtrack of traveling through space. The minimalist build up tells us about how the journey just started outside of the atmosphere, transitioning into more depth that has been inaugurated by a sound that is the sonic equal of the rocket engine. As the beginning journey develops, there are few sudden bursts of power, together with the presence of the perpetual powers that cause the final move to outer space.

The arrival in outer space brings us to the 3rd part of the release and the first track of the B-side. Setaoc Mass gives the EP it's the concluding boost that gives us that last drop of power before the arrival. Elements of the original are still to be found, whilst given a little twist and a lot more of dancefloor energy. All while keeping the pace up to enter the final chapter of the journey.

'Take A Pad' exactly asks us what we need to do. Finding the ultimate balance between speed while preserving the right amount of power, is how sub-bass is working in harmony with the percussive elements.

Space is calling upon us with delicate voices. A beautiful ending of a classy and well crafted EP by Qindek.

UILTY RAZORS, BONA FIDE PUNKS.



Writings on the topic that go off in all directions, mind-numbing lectures given by academics, and testimonies, most of them heavily doctored, from those who “lived through that era”: so many people today fantasize about the early days of punk in our country… This blessed moment when no one had yet thought of flaunting a ridiculous green mohawk, taking Sid Vicious as a hero, or – even worse – making the so-called alternative scene both festive and boorish. There was no such thing in 1976 or 1977, when it wasn’t easy to get hold of the first 45s by the Pistols or the Clash. Few people were aware of what was happening on the fringes of the fringes at the time. Malcolm McLaren was virtually unknown, and having short hair made you seem strange. Who knew then that rock music, which had taken a very bad turn since the early 1970s, would once again become an essential element of liberation? That, thanks to short and fast songs, it would once again rediscover that primitive, social side that was so hated by older generations? Who knew that, besides a few loners who read the music press (it was even better if they read it in English) and frequented the right record stores? Many of these formed bands, because it was impossible to do otherwise. We quickly went from listening to the Velvet Underground to trying to play the Stooges’ intros. It’s a somewhat collective story, even though there weren’t many people to start it.
The Guilty Razors were among those who took part in this initial upheaval in Paris. They were far from being the worst. They had something special and even released a single that was well above the national average. They also had enough songs to fill an album, the one you’re holding. In everyone’s opinion, they were definitely not among the punk impostors that followed in their wake. They were, at least, genuine and credible.

Guilty Razors, Parisian punk band (1975-1978). To understand something about their somewhat linear but very energetic sound, we might need to talk about the context in which it was born and, more broadly, recall the boredom (a theme that would become capital in punk songs) coupled with the desire to blow everything off, which were the basis for the formation of bands playing a rejuvenated rock music ; about the passion for a few records by the Kinks or the early Who, by the Stooges, by the Velvet mostly, which set you apart from the crowd.
And of course, we should remember this new wave, which was promoted by a few articles in the specialized press and some cutting-edge record stores, coming from New York or London, whose small but powerful influence could be felt in Paris and in a handful of isolated places in the provinces, lulled to sleep by so many appalling things, from Tangerine Dream to President Giscard d’Estaing...
In 1975-76, French music was, as almost always, in a sorry state ; it was still dominated by Johnny Hallyday and Sylvie Vartan. Local rock music was also rather bleak, apart from Bijou and Little Bob who tried to revive this small scene with poorly sound-engineered gigs played to almost no one.
In the working class suburbs at the time, it was mainly hard rock music played to 11 that helped people forget about their gruelling shifts at the factory. Here and there, on the outskirts of major cities, you still could find a few rockers with sideburns wearing black armbands since the death of Gene Vincent, but it wasn’t a proper mass movement, just a source of real danger to anyone they came across who wasn't like them. In August 1976, a festival unlike any other took place in Mont-de-Marsan – the First European Punk Festival as the poster said – with almost as many people on stage as in the audience. Yet, on that day, a quasi historical event happened, when, under the blazing afternoon sun, a band of unknowns called The Damned made an unprecedented noise in the arena, reminiscent of the chaotic Stooges in their early adolescence. They were the first genuine punk band to perform in our country: from then on, anything was possible, almost anything seemed permissible.

It makes sense that the four+1 members of Guilty Razors, who initially amplified acoustic guitars with crappy tape recorder microphones, would adopt punk music (pronounced paink in French) naturally and instinctively, since it combines liberating noise with speed of execution and – crucially – a very healthy sense of rebellion (the protesters of May 1968 proclaimed, and it was even a slogan, that they weren’t against old people, but against what had made them grow old. In the mid-1970s, it seemed normal and obvious that old people should now ALSO be targeted!!!).
At the time, the desire to fight back, and break down authority and apathy, was either red or black, often taking the form of leafleting, tumultuous general assemblies in the schoolyard, and massive or shabby demonstrations, most of the time overflowing with an exciting vitality that sometimes turned into fights with the riot police. Indeed, soon after the end of the Vietnam War and following Pinochet’s coup in Chile, all over France, Trotskyist and anarcho-libertarian fervour was firmly entrenched among parts of the educated youth population, who were equally rebellious and troublemakers whenever they had the chance. It should also be noted that when the single "Anarchy in the UK" was first heard, even though not many of us had access to it, both the title and its explosive sound immediately resonated with some of those troublemakers crying out for ANARCHY!!! Meanwhile, the left-wing majority still equated punks with reckless young neo-Nazis. Of course, the widely circulated photos in the mainstream press of Siouxsie Sioux with her swastikas didn’t necessarily help to win over the theorists of the Great Revolution. It took Joe Strummer to introduce The Clash as an anti-racist, anti-fascist and anti-ignorance band for the rejection of old-school revolutionaries to fade a little.

The Lycée Jean-Baptiste Say at Porte d’Auteuil, despite being located in the very posh and very exclusive 16th arrondissement of Paris, didn’t escape these "committed" upheavals, which doubled as the perfect outlet for the less timid members of this generation.
“Back then, politics were fun,” says Tristam Nada, who studied there and went on to become Guilty Razors’ frontman. “Jean-Baptiste was the leftist high-school in the neighbourhood. When the far right guys from the GUD came down there, the Communist League guys from elsewhere helped us fight them off.”
Anything that could challenge authority was fair game and of course, strikes for just about any reason would lead to increasingly frequent truancy (with a definitive farewell to education that would soon follow). Tristam Nada spent his 10th and 11th unfinished grades with José Perez, who had come from Spain, where his father, a janitor, had been sentenced to death by Franco. “José steered my tastes towards solid acts such as The Who. Like most teenagers, I had previously absorbed just about everything that came my way, from Yes to Led Zeppelin to Genesis. I was exploring… And then one day, he told me that he and his brother Carlos wanted to start a rock band.” The Perez brothers already played guitar. “Of course, they were Spanish!”, jokes their singer. “Then, somewhat reluctantly, José took up the bass and we were soon joined by Jano – who called himself Jano Homicid – who took up the rhythm guitar.” Several drummers would later join this core of not easily intimidated young guys who didn’t let adversity get the better of them.

The first rehearsals of the newly named Guilty Razors took place in the bedroom of a Perez aunt. There, the three rookies tried to cover a few standards, songs that often were an integral part of their lives. During a first, short gig, in front of a bewildered audience of tough old-school rockers, they launched into a clunky version of the Velvet Underground's “Heroin”. Challenge or recklessness? A bit of both, probably… And then, step by step, their limited repertoire expanded as they decided to write their own songs, sung in a not always very accurate or academic English, but who cared about proper grammar or the right vocabulary, since what truly mattered was to make the words sound as good as possible while playing very, very fast music? And spitting out those words in a language that left no doubt as to what it conveyed mattered as well.
Trying their hand a the kind of rock music disliked by most of the neighbourhood, making noise, being fiercely provocative: they still belonged to a tiny clique who, at this very moment, had chosen to impose this difference. And there were very few places in France or elsewhere, where one could witness the first stirrings of something that wasn’t a trend yet, let alone a movement.

In the provinces, in late 1976 or early 1977, there couldn’t be more than thirty record stores that were a bit more discerning than average, where you could hear this new kind of short-haired rock music called “punk”. The old clientele, who previously had no problem coming in to buy the latest McCartney or Aerosmith LP, now felt a little less comfortable there…
In Paris, these enlightened places were quite rare and often located nex to what would become the Forum des Halles, a big shopping mall. Between three aging sex workers, a couple of second-hand clothes shops, sellers of hippie paraphernalia and small fashion designers, the good word was loudly spread in two pioneering places – propagators of what was still only a new underground movement. Historically, the first one was the Open Market, a kind of poorly, but tastefully stocked cave. Speakers blasted out the sound of sixties garage bands from the Nuggets compilation (a crucial reference for José Perez) or the badly dressed English kids of Eddie and the Hot Rods. This black-painted den was opened a few years earlier by Marc Zermati, a character who wasn’t always in a sunny disposition, but always quite radical in his (good) choices and his opinions. He founded the independent label Skydog and was one of the promoters of the Mont-de-Marsan punk festivals. Not far from there was Harry Cover, another store more in tune with the new New York scene, which was amply covered in the house fanzine, Rock News (even though it was in it that the photos of the Sex Pistols were first published in France).
It was a favorite hang-out of the Perez brothers and Tristam Nada, as the latter explained. “It’s at Harry Cover’s that we first heard the Pistols and Clash’s 45s, and after that, we decided to start writing our first songs. If they could do it, so could we!”
The sonic shocks that were “Anarchy in the UK”, “White Riot” or the Buzzcocks’s EP, “Spiral Scratch” – which Guilty Razors' sound is reminiscent of – were soon to be amplified by an unparalleled visual shock. In April 1977, right after the release of their first LP, The Clash performed at the Palais des Glaces in Paris, during a punk night organised by Marc Zermati. For many who were there, it was the gig of a lifetime…
Of course, Guilty Razors and Tristam were in the audience: “That concert was fabulous… We Parisian punks were almost all dressed in black and white, with white shirts, skinny leather ties, bikers jackets or light jackets, etc. The Clash, on the other hand, wore colourful clothes. Well, the next day, at the Gibus, you’d spot everyone who had been at this concert, but they weren’t wearing anything black, they were all wearing colours.”

It makes sense to mention the Gibus club, as Guilty Razors often played there (sometimes in front of a hostile audience). It was also the only place in Paris that regularly scheduled new Parisian or Anglo-Saxon acts, such as Generation X, Siouxsie and the Banshees, the Slits, and Johnny Thunders who would become a kind of messed-up mascot for the venue. A little later, in 1978, the Rose Bonbon – formerly the Nashville – also attracted nightly owls in search of electric thrills… In 1977, the iconic but not necessarily excellent Asphalt Jungle often played at the Gibus, sometimes sharing the bill with Metal Urbain, the only band whose aura would later transcend the French borders (“I saw them as the French Sex Pistols,” said Geoff Travis, head of their British label Rough Trade). Already established in this small scene, Metal Urbain helped the young and restless Guilty Razors who had just arrived. Guitarist for Metal Urbain Hermann Schwartz remembers it: “They were younger than us, we were a bit like their mentors even if it’s too strong a word… At least they were credible. We thought they were good, and they had good songs which reminded of the Buzzcocks that I liked a lot. But at some point, they started hanging out with the Hells Angels. That’s when we stopped following them.”

The break-up was mutual, since, Guilty Razors, for their part, were shocked when they saw a fringe element of the audience at Metal Urbain concerts who repeatedly shouted “Sieg Heil” and gave Nazi salutes. These provocations, even still minor (the bulk of the skinhead crowd would later make their presence felt during concerts), weren’t really to the liking of the Perez brothers, whose anti-fascist convictions were firmly rooted. Some things are non-negotiable.
A few months earlier (in July 1978), Guilty Razors had nevertheless opened very successfully for Metal Urbain at the Bus Palladium, a more traditonally old-school rock night-club. But, as was sometimes the case back then, the night turned into a mass brawl when suburban rockers came to “beat up punks”.

Back then, Parisian nights weren’t always sweet and serene.

So, after opening as best as they could for The Jam (their sound having been ruined by the PA system), our local heroes were – once again – met outside by a horde of greasers out to get them. “Thankfully,” says Tristam, “we were with our roadies, motorless bikers who acted as a protective barrier. We were chased in the neighbouring streets and the whole thing ended in front of a bar, with the owner coming out with a rifle…”
Although Tristam and the Perez brothers narrowly escaped various, potentially bloody, incidents, they weren’t completely innocent of wrongdoing either. They still find amusing their mugging of two strangers in the street for example (“We were broke and we simply wanted to buy tickets for the Heartbreakers concert that night,” says Tristam). It so happened that their victims were two key figures in the rock business at the time: radio presenter Alain Manneval and music publisher Philippe Constantin. They filed a complaint and sought monetary compensation, but somehow the band’s manager, the skilful but very controversial Alexis, managed to get the complaint withdrawn and Guilty Razors ended up signing with Constantin with a substantial advance.

They also signed with Polydor and the label released in 1978 their only three-track 45, featuring “I Don't Wanna be A Rich”, “Hurts and Noises” and “Provocate” (songs that exuded perpetual rebellion and an unquenchable desire for “class” confrontation). It was a very good record, but due to a lack of promotion (radio stations didn’t play French artists singing in English), it didn’t sell very well. Only 800 copies were allegedly sold and the rest of the stock was pulped… Initially, the three tracks were to be included on a LP that never came to be, since they were dropped by Polydor (“Let’s say we sometimes caused a ruckus in their offices!” laughs Tristam.) In order to perfect the long-awaited LP, the band recorded demos of other tracks. There was a cover of Pink Floyd's “Lucifer Sam” from the Syd Barrett era – proof of an enduring love for the sixties’ greats –, “Wake Up” a hangover tale and “Bad Heart” about the Baader-Meinhof gang, whose actions had a profound impact on the era and on a generation seeking extreme dissent... On the album you’re now discovering, you can also hear five previously unreleased tracks recorded a bit later during an extended and freezing stay in Madrid, in a makeshift studio with the invaluable help of a drummer also acting as sound engineer. He was both an enthusiastic old hippie and a proper whizz at sound engineering. Here too, certain influences from the fifties and sixties (Link Wray, the Troggs) are more than obvious in the band’s music.

Shortly after a final stormy and rather barbaric (on the audience’s side) “Punk night” at the Olympia in June 1978, Tristam left the band ; his bandmates continued without him for a short while.

But like most pioneering punk bands of the era, Guilty Razors eventually split up for good after three years (besides once in Spain, they’d only played in Paris). The reason for ceasing business activities were more or less the same for everyone: there were no venues outside one’s small circuit to play this kind of rock music, which was still frightening, unknown, or of little interest to most people. The chances of recording an LP were virtually null, since major labels were only signing unoriginal but reassuring sub-Téléphone clones, and the smaller ones were only interested in progressive rock or French chanson for youth clubs. And what about self-production? No one in our small safety-pinned world had thought about it yet. There wasn’t enough money to embark on that sort of venture anyway.

So yes, the early days of punk in France were truly No Future!

Erleben Sie den packenden Soundtrack des australischen Horrorklassikers "Wolf Creek" (2005) wie nie zuvor – neu remastert und auf Red+Black Splatter-Vinyl gepresst, mit exklusivem Artwork und Liner Notes. Der Komponist Francois Tétaz erschuf mit Klavier, Alan Lambs einzigartigen Telefonleitungsaufnahmen aus dem Outback Westaustraliens und einem Streichquartett einen Soundtrack, der als philosophischer Kontrast zum Horror von "Wolf Creek" fungiert. Eine eindringliche Mischung aus atmosphärischen Klanglandschaften, sparsamer Instrumentierung und unterschwelliger Bedrohung – die Musik fängt die Einsamkeit und Bedrohlichkeit des Outbacks in jeder Rille ein. Exklusive Collector's Edition für alle Horrorfans, Soundtrack-Sammler und Vinyl-Liebhaber gleichermaßen.

"And what about you? What are you looking for?" - René Daumal

This musical journey pays tribute to René Daumal and his enchanting world of mysteries and magic. The album shares its title with Daumal's novel, Mount Analogue: A Novel of Symbolically Authentic Non-Euclidean Adventures in Mountain Climbing, published posthumously in 1952, eight years after the author's untimely death.

Mount Analogue is a classic allegorical adventure novel. The novel describes an expedition undertaken by a group of mountaineers to travel to and climb the titular Mount Analogue an enormous mountain on a surreal continent, that is invisible and inaccessible to the outside world and can be perceived only by the application of obscure knowledge. The central theme of mountaineering is extensively explored through literary and philosophical lenses. Daumal died before the novel was completed, providing an uncanny one-way quality to the story, which ends abruptly in the middle of a sentence.

The first disc features a fifty-minute composition divided into six chapters: Introduction, Meeting, Supposition, Crossing, Arrival, and Conclusion. This album weavestogether a rich tapestry of diverse instruments, sounds, and voices that collectively tell the story of this conceptual work, loaded with a synesthetic multitude of colors, aromas, meanings, textures, and moods.

Contributors to this musical poem include Bill Laswell (bass), Henry Kaiser (guitar), Anna Clementi (vocals), Percy Howard (voice), Hideo Yamaki (percussion), Graham Haynes (cornet), Dorian Cheah (violin), Nils Petter Molvaer (trumpet), Peter Apfelbaum (keyboard), and P.ST (concept, electronics), who all lend their talents to a series of excerpts from Daumal's text.

A truly global project, the recordings took place across various locations in Europe, North America, and South America, culminating at Orange Music Studio in New York, thanks to the collaborative efforts of Bill Laswell, James Dellatacoma, and Michael Fossenkemper.

The second disc presents five improvisations for solo electric guitar by Henry Kaiser. The first solo, Jodorowsky's Peradam, draws its inspiration from Alejandro Jodorowsky's 1973 film The Holy Mountain, which was inspired by the Daumal novel. Kaiser's initial forty-eight-minute guitar solo serves as a foundational guide for his four subsequent, Rashomon-esque, solo musical interpretations of Mount Analogue, as seen through the psychedelic labyrinth of Jorodrowsky's cinematic masterpiece.

"And what about you? What are you looking for?" - René Daumal

This musical journey pays tribute to René Daumal and his enchanting world of mysteries and magic. The album shares its title with Daumal's novel, Mount Analogue: A Novel of Symbolically Authentic Non-Euclidean Adventures in Mountain Climbing, published posthumously in 1952, eight years after the author's untimely death.

Mount Analogue is a classic allegorical adventure novel. The novel describes an expedition undertaken by a group of mountaineers to travel to and climb the titular Mount Analogue an enormous mountain on a surreal continent, that is invisible and inaccessible to the outside world and can be perceived only by the application of obscure knowledge. The central theme of mountaineering is extensively explored through literary and philosophical lenses. Daumal died before the novel was completed, providing an uncanny one-way quality to the story, which ends abruptly in the middle of a sentence.

The first disc features a fifty-minute composition divided into six chapters: Introduction, Meeting, Supposition, Crossing, Arrival, and Conclusion. This album weavestogether a rich tapestry of diverse instruments, sounds, and voices that collectively tell the story of this conceptual work, loaded with a synesthetic multitude of colors, aromas, meanings, textures, and moods.

Contributors to this musical poem include Bill Laswell (bass), Henry Kaiser (guitar), Anna Clementi (vocals), Percy Howard (voice), Hideo Yamaki (percussion), Graham Haynes (cornet), Dorian Cheah (violin), Nils Petter Molvaer (trumpet), Peter Apfelbaum (keyboard), and P.ST (concept, electronics), who all lend their talents to a series of excerpts from Daumal's text.

A truly global project, the recordings took place across various locations in Europe, North America, and South America, culminating at Orange Music Studio in New York, thanks to the collaborative efforts of Bill Laswell, James Dellatacoma, and Michael Fossenkemper.

The second disc presents five improvisations for solo electric guitar by Henry Kaiser. The first solo, Jodorowsky's Peradam, draws its inspiration from Alejandro Jodorowsky's 1973 film The Holy Mountain, which was inspired by the Daumal novel. Kaiser's initial forty-eight-minute guitar solo serves as a foundational guide for his four subsequent, Rashomon-esque, solo musical interpretations of Mount Analogue, as seen through the psychedelic labyrinth of Jorodrowsky's cinematic masterpiece.

Red Vinyl

The Communards’ sophomore album ‘Red’ consolidated the genius of the musical partnership between Bronski Beat singer Jimmy Somerville and pianist Richard Coles. Fusing synths and hi-NRG production with lush string and horn arrangements, The Communards straddled pop and the political, the album’s themes set against the political unrest and moral panic of late 80s Britain. A global smash upon its release, this remastered and expanded 35Th Anniversary Edition features an extensive array of B-sides, live tracks, demo versions and remixes, including classic mixes by legendary 80s club doyens Shep Pettibone, Clivilles & Cole (better known as C&C Music Factory) and a euphoric new 2022 remix of ‘Never Can Say Goodbye’ by UK outfit The 2 Bears (Hot Chip’s Joe Goddard and DJ Raf Rundell). Available on Deluxe Double CD , Collector White & Red Double Vinyl , Black Vinyl. All editions remastered , with new sleeve notes.

2026 Repress

DJ Quik is a giant of West Coast hip-hop. With his fourth album Rhythm-Al-Ism he created his masterpiece, a perfect hip-hop album. As Quik explains, “the name Rhythm-Al-Ism alone tells you what I was doing. I was mixing up rhythms. I was meshing R&B with hip-hop and jazz. And a little bit of comedy”. It’s absolutely sensational and as with a lot of mid-90s albums those original vinyl copies are now rare so here’s the Be With re-issue.

A preternaturally gifted producer/rapper, DJ Quik has produced scores of LA gangsta rap classics. He’s released platinum and gold records of his own, as well as helped craft them for the likes of Tupac, Snoop Dogg, and Dr Dre. Quik has always been quirkier and more interesting than his gangsta rap peers, both musically and lyrically. An old-school funk producer at heart, he’s also incredibly nice on the mic. His raps often deal in boasts, jokes and good times but also cover his beefs, his trials and his trauma. Partying and pain, all mixed up. DJing and producing hype beat tapes from age 14, Quik’s tracks blended the languid funk and rubbery synths of Zapp and George Clinton with a gangsta aesthetic, creating a more danceable foil to Compton’s more typical nihilistic hedonism. Ultimately, his records sound custom engineered to drift out over sun-soaked barbecues.

Released in 1998 on Profile, Rhythm-Al-Ism was the closest Quik ever got to making a commercial splash. “You’z A Ganxta” and “Hand in Hand” made radio waves across the country and the less radio-friendly tracks like “Medley For A ‘V’” were bumping out of car stereos. Combining his soulful, jazzy P-Funk/G-Funk beats with his effortlessly smooth flow, Rhythm-Al-Ism was the quintessential West Coast Party. Squelchy synths, bouncy bass, monstrously knocking drums and freaky keys - this is peaking acidic party-rap, straight out the gate. Music for gliding, for skating, for time with your people and your poison. Sunshine. No cares. BBQs. Heavy smoke in the air. Dripping with wit and good humour. A real swing to the vibe.

The album opens with Quik setting out his mission statement with “Rhythm-Al-Ism (Intro)”, telling us what this is all about before the self-explanatory “We Still Party” rocks the spot. It’s definitely all about the party here, complete with Quik’s signature head-nod/body-moving beat. Next up, the undeniable laidback funk and dripping swing of groove-laden “So Many Wayz”. This positively slaps.

Then we get to the three huge singles. The R&B-tinged radio-friendly minor-hit “Hand In Hand” closes the first side only for the flip to get straight into the rolling and scratching of bleepy computer-funk banger “Down, Down, Down” (featuring a particularly nice use of Howard Johnson’s epochal “So Fine”). The effortlessly smooth, flute and guitar-laced “You’z A Ganxta” completes the trio. Next up the fast-paced, vocoder-enhanced, woulda-beena-global-hit “I Useta Know Her”. This coulda (shoulda) been a single too. Head-nod funk workout “No Doubt”, with its ace sample of Prince's “Sexy Dancer”, closes out the second side.

“Speed” races out the gate on the second disc, sampling Edwin Birdsong’s “Rapper Dapper Snapper” in a harder, better, faster, stronger way than those daft Parisian punks. Amphetamine-swift raps over soaring, string-drenched b-boy beats. A total anthem. Up next, the staggering, near 8-minute laconic, lounge-y sax-rap of “Whateva U Do” cools things down and smooths things out with its flute wrapping around a sample of Smokey Robinson’s “So In Love” and some oh-so-classy lounge-piano tinkling. And speaking of smooth, things don’t get much smoother than the blissfully melodic glider-anthem “Thinkin’ ’Bout U” riding that ace flip of SWV’s “Use Your Heart”. Exceptional.

The exquisite funky-flute-slapper “Medley for a ‘V’ (The P***Y Medley)” opens the fourth and final side, with star turns from Snoop Dogg and a typically suave Nate Dogg. It’s followed by the supremely skanked-out “Bombudd II”, a beautifully sweet reggae-fuelled ode to the herb. “Get 2Getha Again” is slick funk. Stunning.

This 2022 Be With double LP re-issue has been mastered for vinyl by Simon Francis, cut by Pete Norman and pressed at Record Industry. Unusual for the time, Rhythm-Al-Ism was originally pressed as a double and we’ve reproduced the original LA vibe picture sleeve and insert to match.

As that original front cover says, this is “over 70 minutes of commercial free music” and it’s absolutely perfect from start to finish. There are no stand-out tracks here. It’s all gold.
: Rhythm-al-ism (2LP)