quête:d explicit

Following nearly 20 years of working together as a trio, and numerous cross-collaborations in different configuration between them, Ideologic Organ presents Placelessness, the debut full-length by Chris Abrahams, Oren Ambarchi, and Robbie Avenaim, comprising two long-form works at juncture of ambient music, minimalism, rigorous experimentalism and improvisation, and machine music. Having carved distinct pathways across a diverse number of musical idioms for decades, Chris Abrahams, Oren Ambarchi, and Robbie Avenaim are each, respectively, among the most noteworthy and groundbreaking figures to have emerged from Australia's thriving experimental music scene. Ambarchi and Avenaim first encountered Abrahams when seeing the Necks - the project that has served as the primary vehicle for his singular approach to the piano since its founding in 1987 - together during the late 1980s, not long after having met in Sydney's underground music community. The pair's collaborations date back more than 35 years, criss-crossing Ambarchi's pioneering solo and ensemble work for guitar and Avenaim's visionary efforts for SARPS (Semi Automated Robotic Percussion System), robotic and kinetic extensions to his drum kit. In 2004, fate brought the three together in a trio performance at the What Is Music? Festival, the annual touring showcase of experimental music founded and run by Ambarchi and Avenaim between 1994-2012. For the nearly two decades since, Abrahams, Ambarchi, and Avenaim have intermittently reformed in exclusively live contexts, in Australia and abroad, cultivating and refining the fertile ground first tilled in that early meeting. Placelessness is the first album to present this remarkable trio's efforts in recorded form. Placelessness is the joining of three highly individualised streams, working in perfect harmony; the point at which friendship, mutual respect, and decades of creative exploration produce a singular spectrum of sound. Featuring Abrahams on piano, Ambarchi on guitar, and Avenaim on drums, the album's two sides draw on each artist's enduring dedication to long-form composition. Its two pieces, Placelessness I and Placelessness II, initially began as a single, 40 minute work, before being divided and reworked into distinct, complimentary gestures for the corresponding sides of the LP. Beginning with restrained clusters of reverberant piano tones, Placelessness I progresses at an almost glacial pace, with Abrahams' interventions increasing met by sparse responses, darting within vast ambiences, on guitar and percussion by Ambarchi and Avenaim. Remarkably conversational within its convergences of tonal, rhythmic, and textural abstraction, over the work's duration a progressive sense of tension unfurls and contracts, refusing release, as each of the ensemble's members contribute to an increasingly tangled sense of density at its resolve. While an entirely autonomous work, Placelessness II rapidly realises a distillation of the energy hinted at across the length of its predecessor. Following a luring passage of harmonious calm, Abrahams' launches into shimmering lines of repeating arpeggios, complimented at each escalation of tempo by Avenaim's machine gun fire percussion work and Ambarchi's masterful delivery of tonality and texture, as the trio collectively generate dense sheets of pointillistic ambience within which individual identity is almost lost, before slowly unspooling into unexpected abstractions and dissonances that deftly intervene with the work's inner logic and calm. What could easily be termed a maximalist take on Minimalism, Placelessness is a masterstroke of contemporary, real time composition, that blurs the boundaries between ambient music, experimentalism, free improvisation, and machine music. Drawing on Chris Abrahams, Oren Ambarchi, and Robbie Avenaim's decades of respective solo and collaborative practice, and the culmination of nearly twenty years of working together as a trio, it's two durational pieces - Placelessness I and Placelessness II - take form with a startling sense of effortlessness and grace, neither shying away from explicit beauty or rigorously tension within their forms.

In 1972, a foursome of design students set out to make a record. This was, in many ways, a strictly creative endeavor. The quartet — composed of Dave Pescod, Alan Lewis, Phil Rawle, and Ted Rockley — were all trained, not as musicians, but as creatives. Art school heavyweights, the four were well-versed in the methodology of intentional experimentation, in the delicate balance of pushing the limits without completely unmooring oneself from a guiding creative intention. Emboldened by a high-brow familiarity with thoughtful experimentation and all the non-conviction of non-musicians, Bowes Road Band’s stint in the world of popular music yielded a record that is as much mind-melting as it is a direct product of its time. Their sprawling LP “Back in the HCA” embodies the exigence “art for art’s sake,” but it is for art’s sake that this record, however off the deep end it seems to travel (hear: “Doctor, Doctor”), remains a unified, and stunning, body of work. The LP’s do-ityourself garage rock noisemaking meets highfalutin creative processes. “Back in the HCA” is warbling psychedelic freakout (“Two Fingers,” “Doctor, Doctor”), Donovan-esque English countryside folk stylings (“Inside My Head,” “Goodbye to Rosie”), and avant-garde jazz improvisions (“Grass is Grass,” “Tomorrow’s Truth”) in one luminous release.

Originally an 9-track LP, Jakarta, Uno Loop, and Bowes Road Band decided to mine the six most cohesive tracks for the reissue, though the extras may be released somewhere down the line. Cohesion efforts aside, “Back in the HCA” stands alone in its singular conception of a genre-bending continuum — it evades definition. That said, the LP can easily be situated in the sonic environment in which it was conceived. By the end of the 60s, England was crawling with blues-based rock outfits that were starting to venture into prog rock territory. You can hear this popular dint cast over the folkier side of the LP. But Bowes Road Band was armed with their non-musicianship: they existed completely liberated from the motivating yet ultimately paralyzing lust for stardom. Enjoying this liberation, Bowes Road Band was utterly free to make noise. This freedom meant drawn out sax interludes amidst sweetly folk stylings (“Grass is Grass”) and Shaggs-like fuzzed-out freakouts that spiral into a void (Doctor, Doctor). This freedom also meant straight-forward tuneful cuts like “Goodbye Rosie” that conspicuously introduce heavily distorted auto-organ accompaniment mid-track amidst poignant lyricism. Bowes Road Band crafts a unified sound and then cracks it open.

With a completely off-the-radar status, Bowes Road Band could only press 50 copies of the record — 10 for each of them and 10 for the school. The band’s lifespan was to end there, or so they thought. “Back in the HCA” was the accidental fruit of a Berlin flea market treasure hunt by Jannis Stürtz, DJ and co-founder of Habibi Funk and Jakarta Records. After finding and sharing the LP with a few colleagues, Stürtz managed to get in touch with the band, get ahold of the master tapes collecting dust in Ted Rockley’s attic, and start the reissuing process. The record is still adorned with its original cover art designed by Alan Pescod, both reminiscent of bygone school days and the Zoom calls of yesterday — in short, reunion. Its re-discovery was happenstance and ought to be listened to as such. That is, “Back in the HCA” was not made to be listened to on a broad scale, or, at least, was not made with this goal in mind; it is neither in its time nor of its time. Of course, the group explicitly cites the folk tunes of the English countryside, the distorted rock groups that reigned during the record’s conception, and the fringes of psychedelic music that only the uber-underground might recognize (e.g., “Dreaming of Alice”). Yet still with these obvious influences, “Back in the HCA” always existed beyond the domain of both traditional musicianship and conventional commodification. Bowes Road Band’s DIY musicality beams through in technicolor across “Back in the HCA.” The vinyl includes an 8-page booklet detailing the albums creation and interviews with the band.

Lead single “Grass is Grass,” out July 14 along with album pre-order, encapsulates the record’s range: the track unfurls into a sprawling sax-driven trip following a sundrenched, Donovan-esque intro w/ lyrics “naively about parks and gardens, not marijuana!” The keyed-down folk cut “Goodbye to Rosie” is single 2 and elevates stripped-down acoustics with golden tinges, out August 4th. Focus track “Tomorrow’s Truth” constructs the fuzzed-out underbelly of acid folk. Listen for echoes of late Beatles, Mark Fry, and Donovan (if they were armed by an unshakabele willful naiveté). Like Sgt. Pepper’s on a shoestring budget—take a trip to the underground with LP “Back in the HCA,” available everywhere physically and digitally on September 1st via Jakarta Records and Uno Loop.

Besides online promotion from label profiles, the album will be further promoted by external agencies within the UK and US.

In an era defined by futility, isolation, and precarity, it can be difficult to envision a utopia. But on Skeleten’s thrilling, immersive debut album, Under Utopia, the Sydney musician dares to imagine new ways of being that are not characterized by doom or despair. Across eleven tracks of free-flowing, transcendent, and often euphoric electronic music, Skeleten praises the power of comradery and community; while dreaming of a future that is joyously boundless. 



Skeleten, real name Russell Fitzgibbon, has always been fascinated by the ideas of utopias. He’s thought a lot about how the concept has shifted and morphed throughout history, and how the goal post for a utopia is always moving further and further away. “We're more familiar with the idea of a dystopia in the modern world - that's more close to our consciousness. I think on this album I wanted to explore the importance of imaging and embodying a new world.”

Written before and during the pandemic, the album was born out of a desire to connect with others and to shake the mantle of introspection that had been placed on his previous works. From the opening notes of the otherworldly album opener “Generator”, it's clear that this record prioritises immediate pleasures without forgoing intimacy. The lyrics are also more explicit, reaching outward with inviting choruses and mantra-like melodies. “I think the album came out of the experience of feeling this great desire to reconnect and dreaming of the power of community,” says the musician.

This is especially present in lead single ‘Sharing The Fire’, a song that crackles with optimism. A sprawling dance track with pulsating synths and Fitzgibbon’s gentle, warm vocals, the song is about futures that are full of brightness and bliss. As the artist repeats in the song’s chorus: “for all that you know, summer could be around the corner.” The song is about an “almost frustrated desire to connect with more people and feel that sense of community through shared goals.” The accompanying video clip, shot on 35mm, is similarly invested in ideas of companionship and gathering. Shot in a clinical, drab office space, friends and revelers fill the space with warmth and energy.

Elsewhere, this invocation of paradise is infused in the stripped-back, singular title track “Under Utopia”. The song was significant to Fitzgibbon, as it allowed him to gather all his thoughts and ideas about his new music under one message. “It’s something I wrote when I had this collection of songs and wanted to give it a single voice, which was about seeing the world entirely new, full of hope and beauty, and all of us underneath pushing it upwards.” 

An antidote for gloom presented in Under Utopia is the transformative power of love. There’s “Heart Full Of Tenderness”, a woozy, languorous love song, awash with cloudy vocals and glistening synths; the truncated beats and hypnotic pleading of “Territory Day” and “Right Here It’s Only Love” which explores the icier and ambient side of R’n’B.


Another hallmark that characterizes Under Utopia is Fitzgibbon’s airy and spacious mix, which gives his songs room to sprawl out and simmer; as well as allowing his calming baritone to come to the fore. This is notable in the contemplative, synth-laden “Colour Room”, the funk-tinged “Walking On Your Name,” the previously released “No Drones in the Afterlife,” and the beloved early single “Mirrored,” which speaks of finding yourself through a connection to those around you.

Fitzgibbon has been enmeshed in the Sydney music scene for years. Skeleten emerged out of a need to experiment and make music without worrying about the outcome. “It was just me making music that felt right, and very much focusing on this kind of meditative aspect of exploring without any goal,” says Fitzgibbon. But as the project has evolved, the artist has gained clarity on what he hopes his music will achieve: bringing people together, and creating an atmosphere of elation. Or as Fitzgibbon puts it on Under Utopia’s hallucinatory album closer “We’re gonna get everything we need in the world.”

Renowned agent and jazz pioneer Wim Wigt founded Timeless Records in 1975. This Dutch record label has specialized in bebop, although it also did a sub-series of releases of Dixieland, Swing and Classical recordings. As of today, Timeless Records has, together with its three sub-labels, released over 900 albums. Notable releases include Dizzy Gillespie Meets Phil Woods Quintet, McCoy Tyner's Bon Voyage, Lou Donaldson's Forgotten Man, Eastern Rebellion and albums by the George Adams-Don Pullen Quartet, Chet Baker, Bill Evans, Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers and many more.

To celebrate the legacy of Wim Wigt's Timeless Records, Music On Vinyl is releasing a 45th anniversary jazz series. The series features albums that are part of the Timeless Records legacy and will be released throughout 2021/2022. To kick off this series, Pharoah Sanders' Africa is released on the 19th of November 2021.

Pharoah Sanders possesses one of the most distinctive tenor saxophone sounds in jazz, which has earned him royal status amongst free jazz players, critics and collectors. Harmonically rich and heavy with overtones, his sound can be as raw and abrasive as it is possible for a saxophonist to produce. His 1987 album Africa is soulful but also searching for a strong groove at the same time. The album is recorded with John Hicks, Curtis Lundy and Idris Muhammad and was an explicit tribute to his late mentor John Coltrane, another giant of jazz.

Africa by Pharoah Sanders is available on black vinyl. The album includes an insert with upcoming Timeless Records titles from the Timeless Records 45th Anniversary Jazz series. The sleeve contains liner notes by Kevin Whitehead.

If "Forgiveness of Blood" | KR3.009 was marked by a modern vision of techno voiced by Tensal's sound, this remixes EP chronicles the tension that shapes the sound of the artists involved: SHED, Anthony Linell, Alessandro Adriani and Tensal himself. Static and hypnotic waves of strain recur, even though the 4 tracks represent 4 different major expressions of what techno explicitly and implicitly stands for.

Forgiveness of Blood Remixes - is a distillation of the modernist and nostalgic sound capable of impacting both on the dancefloor and mentally.
Four strongly evocative tracks that narrate not only the artists' but also the label's path.

2024 Restock

"Warren 'Sonny' Sharrock died of a heart attack at the age of 53 in 1994. At the time of his death, many writers noted that he had recently landed a contract with a major label (RCA) and was perhaps 'destined for big things.' In my opinion, these writers missed the point. Although Mr. Sharrock may not have been successful financially (as though that might be a primary motivating goal for any true artist), he was uncommonly successful aesthetically. Certainly, there are a few dubious moments to be found inside his oeuvre, but Mr. Sharrock produced several of the most mind-shredding avant-garde albums ever recorded. Premier among them is Black Woman.

"Originally released on the Vortex label in 1969, Black Woman may be the universe's first true statement of guitar skronk majesty. It also represents Mr. Sharrock's first date as a leader and stands as the sole documentation of a band that well-understood the essentials of energy. Besides Sharrock's explosive guitar, the band features the omni-directional percussion mastery of Milford Graves (then in the midst of recording Love Cry with Albert Ayler), the gorgeous post-tongue vocalizing of Sonny's then-wife Linda Sharrock, the sinuous bass presence of Norris Jones (later known as Sirone) and some the most explicitly abstract piano work ever recorded by Dave Burrell. That Black Woman was produced by flautist Herbie Mann, a guy not well-known for his affinity to fire music, makes it even more intriguing." – Byron Coley

The next chapter of the Natural Information Society is here. Since Time Is Gravity, credited to Natural Information Society Community Ensemble with Ari Brown, presents a newly expanded manifestation of acclaimed composer & multi-instrumentalist Joshua Abrams nearly 15 year, 7 albums &-counting flagship ensemble. Joining the core NIS of Abrams (guimbri & bass), Lisa Alvarado (harmonium) Mikel Patrick Avery (drums) & Jason Stein (bass clarinet) are Hamid Drake (percussion), Josh Berman & Ben Lamar Gay (cornets), Nick Mazzarella & Mai Sugimoto (alto saxophones & flute), Kara Bershad (harp) & Chicago living legend of the tenor saxophone Ari Brown. Recorded live to tape at Electrical Audio & The Graham Foundation, cover painting Vibratory Cartography: Nepantla, by Lisa Alvarado. 2xLP on Eremite USA, 2xLP & CD on Aguirre/Eremite Europe. Out 14-04.

Since first developing Natural Information Society in 2010, Joshua Abrams has been gradually expanding the group’s conceptual underpinnings, its musical references & the sheer number of the group’s members. Its music is, in a sense, an expansive form of minimalism, based in repeated & overlaid rhythmic patterns, ostinatos & modality. Its roots, its scale & its meaning become clearer in time. If time is gravity, it also allows us to carry more. Having begun as fundamentally a rhythm section with Abrams’ guimbri at its core, the version here can stretch to a tentet, including six horns.

Abrams has been expanding his minimalism gradually, but he has long understood a key to minimalism’s potential: the breadth of its roots in the late 1950s & early 1960s, ranging from the dissatisfaction of young European-stream composers with the limitations of serialism to the simultaneous dissatisfaction of jazz musicians with the dense harmonic vocabulary of bop & hard bop. The former began exploring rhythmic complexity & narrow tonal palates in place of harmonic abstraction (Steve Reich’s Drumming, Philip Glass’ Music with Changing Parts; perhaps above all Terry Riley’s In C & his late ‘60s all-night organ & loop concerts); the later reduced dense chord changes to scales (signally with Miles Davis' Kind of Blue, but rapidly expanding with John Coltrane’s vast project). In the 1950s the LP record opened the world with documentation of Asian & African musics, key influences on both minimalists & jazz musicians. If John Coltrane’s soprano saxophone suggested the keening shehnai of Bismillah Khan, the instrument was rapidly taken up by two key minimalists, LaMonte Young & Riley, similarly appreciative of its flexible intonation, the same thing that kept it out of big bands.

If the guimbri, the North African hide-covered lute that Abrams plays with NIS, involves a rich tradition of hypnotic healing music associated with the Gnawa people, Abrams’ music also touches on other musics as well — other depths, memories & healings, different drones, rhythms & modes. As the group expands on Since Time Is Gravity, he has made certain jazz traditions in the same stream more explicit as well. If there is a mystical & elastic quality involved in the experience of time, both in direction & duration, you will catch it here. The parts for the choir of winds expand on the roles of Abrams’ guimbri, Mikel Patrick Avery & Hamid Drake’s percussion & Lisa Alvarado’s harmonium: at times, the winds are almost looping in the tentet version, each hitting a repeating note in turn, at once drone & distinct inflection on temporal sequence. The brilliance of the work resides in Abrams’ compositions, the NIS’ intuitive execution & in Ari Brown’s singular embodiment of the great tenor saxophone tradition, including the oracular genius of Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis, & Yusef Lateef. The three pieces by the expanded NIS featuring Brown —the opening “Moontide Chorus” & “Is” & the ultimate “Gravity”— have an immediate impact, & togther might be considered a kind of concerto for tenor saxophone. Here Brown presses almost indistinguishably from composed melody to improvised speech, getting so close to language that he might have a text. Everything here is a sign. Note the tap of the Rhythm Ace that links “Moontide Chorus” to “Is”, the attentive heart always present, even when signed by a machine. There’s a link here to the methodologies & meanings of dub music & the linear & vertical collage of beats, textures & tongues: treated with reverence, a sample of a beat-box can be as soulful, as hypnotic, as a mbira or a tamboura. If those pieces with Brown are heard as a suspended concerto, the three embrace & enfold the other works, like the sepals of a flower. That placement will also touch on the mysteries of our perception of time.

Particularly in “Is”, but elsewhere as well, a phenomenon of transcendence arises in which time appears to be tripartite, at once moving backwards & forwards & standing still. This is an act of technical brilliance certainly, but also an illumination of music’s ability to represent temporal consciousness through polymetrics. This particular listener has only heard it before in a few places, including the horn shouts & bowed basses of Coltrane’s Africa, in moments of Charles Mingus’ The Black Saint & the Sinner Lady, in certain pieces where tapes were literally running backwards, & earlier still in Dizzy Gillespie’s Cubana Be, Cubana Bop, in which the composer George Russell & conguero Chano Pozo found a music that spoke at once in the voices of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring & the vestigial rites, rhythms & songs of the Yoruba language & Santeria religion of inland Cuba.

In Joshua Abrams’ compositions & the realization of them by the NIS, in the time of one’s close listening & memory thereof, distinctions between the “natural” & the “social”, the “quotidian” & the “transcendent” are erased, suspended or perhaps irrelevant. Consider two of the ensemble pieces, one named for nature, the other social science. In “Murmuration” the repeated wind figures of flute & alto saxophone combine with the interlocking patterns of harp, guimbri & frame drum (tar) to create a perfect moving stillness, not an imitation but a witness to the miracle of the starlings’ astonishing collective art, a surfeit of beauty that might be the ultimate defense tactic.

“Stigmergy” takes its name & concept from the Occupy movement’s Heather Marsh, who proposes a social system based on a cooperative rather than competitive models, one in which ideas are freely contributed & developed as ideas rather than an individual’s property. In its form, Abrams’ “Stigmergy” is the closes thing to traditional jazz, a series of accompanied solos by each of the wind players. However, the composed accompaniment is a radically collectivist notion: a repeated rhythmic figure, call it ostinato or riff, in which the different winds each play only a note or two of the figure, a concept both more collectivist & individualistic in its conception than any typical unison figure. It suggests another of the underlying recognitions that propel the Natural Information Society, the group as social organism, the teleology of hypnotic anarchy, all parts in place, functioning systematically, evolving & expressing itself, its nature & society, as a transformative organism.

George Lewis has described music as “a space for reflection on the human condition”. This suggests that, rather than a “distraction”, at least some music might serve as a distraction from distraction. It’s a focus, a clarity, a awareness, an external invitation to interiority, as if music itself is a model for form & contemplation, an organism contemplating for us or as us. If that is a possibility, & I am sure I have heard such musics, than this music is among them. How many of our rhythms, melodies & harmonies (cultural, historical, biological, psychic) might such music carry, translate & transform in the particulate ecstasy of our own murmuration? (Stuart Broomer, April 2022)

“Before becoming a producer, I grew up with labels such as Cenobite, K.N.O.R., Cold Rush and Ruffneck Records; this emblematic 1990s hardcore sound has influenced me heavily, even though it has never explicitly featured in my music. But I feel it’s time to return from exile, and so I have started to dig up the relics and present my interpretation of that great style: The energetic kicks, the sweeping sounds, the samples. Enjoy my piece of modern arkaeology!”

Bristol multi-instrumentalist, producer and nature freak Will Yates offers a new record from his Memotone alias, an expansive, hypothetical revue titled How Was Your Life?

Launching from terrains recognizable to fans of Will’s extensive, restless discography, How Was Your Life? packs up his penchant for baroque druid folk, homespun electronics and weightless woodwinds and explodes them into glistening, fractal star dust.

Instigated by the purchase of an antiquated Y2K era guitar synthesizer, the record was produced over the first half of 2022, in a large part a result of in-studio improvisation and carved by equipment that offered both possibilities and parameters that Will relished and explored to the nth degree. The Roland GR33 not only provided sublime guitar sounds but also empowered the guitar to convincingly mimic fretless bass, tabla and a vast percussive array, also summoning an artillery of uniquely outre atmospheres over the course of the record. The resulting concoction sounds familiar yet subtly, unshakeably otherworldly, shaping up as perhaps the most honed, energized and beatific Memotone album to date.

Paradise Drips gently lifts off with wobbly guitar, randomized sequences and unidentifiable percussive elements situating us somewhere in an unearthly realm, before Open World zaps the serotonin receptors and gushes with ecstatic warmth, it’s quietly insistent soft disco shuffle and levitational fretless driving towards a totally blissed and very soft “drop”. Forest Zone sees Memotone deep in the green, with a loose, propulsive groove and dancing flutes stumbling into a medieval ritual in the clearing halfway through, and Glow In The Dark deftly bounces between spacey ambience and an undulating no wave vamp. Carved By The Moon is a delightfully melted classical cut, while Canteen Sandwich offers the record’s most explicitly nod to modernity in the form of a nimble drum workout with samurai synths and melodic percussion that heaves towards a genuine peak. Lonehead immediately backs right off, viscerally melancholic clarinet and bubbling fx making for the records most hefty introspective moment, before Walking Backwards simmers all the way down on an wistful arpeggio, rooting back in earthly reality with charmed rhythms and jazzy tunings. Catharsis complete, Memotone is onto the next incarnation.

Will Yates has been making music as Memotone since 2010, releasing music on labels like Black Acre, Disktopia and Accidental Meetings, also releasing music as O.G. Jigg and Half Nelson. He’s worked as a producer, session musician and live performer on a broad spectrum of projects, and recently provided source sounds that made up Batu’s “Opal” on Timedance.

How Was Your Life? was written, produced and mixed by Will Yates. It was mastered by Chris Wang. Art and design by Hugo Bernier.

It’s always a joy to release music from friends, and ZamZam 91 is our first collab with a dear one, Jim Coles AKA Om Unit. It’s impossible to frame the breadth and depth of such a storied career in bass music in just a couple lines- so suffice to say that releases over decades on a who’s-who of seminal labels including Exit, Fabric, Planet Mu and of course his own Cosmic Bridge have cemented his rep as an absolute force in production and DJing across any number of genres and sub genres.

Coles’ roots in Bristol and deep love of dub and reggae - made beautifully explicit on his recent Acid Dub Studies LPs - come through strong on both sides. “The Canopy (Armageddon Style)” opens with ravey, arpeggiated synths worthy of Vangelis, punctuated by a brooding piano chord, building steadily into a dark and utterly apocalyptic steppers guaranteed to storm & batter down Babylon walls inside and out.

“Mystic 808” is a deep meditation, a slow stepper that ices down the furious energy of the A side and drops the tempo to suit. Recalling the heady days of original late 90s/early 2000s UK Dub - as well as early dub techno - stabs and melody caress, restrained percussion swims and multiplies in reverb and echo, orbits locked to the gravitational force of the massive and truly timeless bassline. Proper sound system material that will satisfy the heart and soul long after the dance is done.

RP Boo's essential first album, 2013's ‘Legacy’ caused a storm of acclaim worldwide as people finally started to piece together his true place in Footwork and the powerful legacy of his work as an innovator. In parallel with productions, his always on-point DJ sets have lit up festivals and clubs worldwide and continue to do so to this day, notably leading to him being named one of the ‘100 World’s Best DJs’ in a recent book by DJ Mag. Now on its 10th anniversary ‘Legacy Vol.2’ continues his story. Featuring tracks created between 2002 and 2007, this is a wonderous selection of material, some known, some unknown. The album kicks off with the dark and epic ‘Eraser’ created in September 2007, during a time RP was going to underground Footwork club War Zone on the west side of Chicago. The track was inspired by, and created to fuel, the “taunting words of intimidation” between dancers.” And now it makes for one intense album opener. Some cuts are inspired by everyday life – take for example 2005's ‘Pop Machine’, which was inspired by the time he was working at Speedway Oil Change who had a temperamental soda/pop machine. One day, a customer put money in the machine and nothing came out, so he continued to press the button, and for some reason RP found this funny so he went over to the machine and started pressing the buttons himself and everyone he touched started saying “Work!.” Inspired once he was back home in his studio he made ‘Pop Machine’ in tribute to the defunct machinery. When he came back to work the next day and played the track for all this co-workers it blew their minds and they also laughed with at how creative RP could get using things from his everyday life as inspiration. ‘Pop Machine’ also illustrates how RP’s Footwork uses repetition and minimalism as fuel. Years later RP Boo is still inspired by Foot Work – the art of dancing and working for dancers. He continues to shake up clubs and isn’t afraid to get out from behind the decks and drop some Foot himself. We’ll let the man himself have the final word - “What inspires me to keep going is seeing the people having an awesome time moving on the dance floor, as well as playing music that is a recognizable part of my life. I’m one with it.”

Of all the things that can and should and will be said of Sam Wilkes’ & Jacob Mann’s Perform the Compositions of Sam Wilkes & Jacob Mann, let’s begin at the beginning and acknowledge that it is an aptly named record indeed. An ideal collaborative effort (which is to say, greater than the sum of its parts), here we have two longtime friends, two luminaries of the New Weird Los Angeles — the experimental, genre-encompassing underground—who have, at last, devoted a full-length record to their signature musical admixture.

Since their meeting as USC music students (Wilkes studied bass, and Mann, jazz/piano), the two have, with a kind of ceaseless abandon, chased the music to the ends the earth — oftentimes quite literally; travel is a recurrent theme in Compositions’ track titles (Pre-board, Soft Landing, and Around the Horn), and the record’s second track, Jakarta, was sketched out in a hotel room in the city of the same name, where Wilkes and Mann were performing at a jazz festival in 2019. Having initially bonded over a mutual and abiding appreciation for the Soulquarians, the two have spent over a decade playing and traveling, together and separately, their styles coevolving all the while.

Across its thirteen tracks, Compositions captures the relaxed creative flow of two consummate musicians. Most of the record’s sessions (“four-to-five-day summits” in an apartment studio, occasioned by “blasts of inspiration”) began with casual improvisation, and, indeed, roughly half of the final material was composed in this manner: Wilkes and Mann squaring off, a Yamaha DX7 facing a Roland Juno 106, alternating leads, two co-pilots with no set course. And though the songs are polished to a shine, there are artifacts of the intimacy of these sessions. Yes It Is concludes with a snippet of just-intelligible studio chatter: “…A flat minor, then A major.” A figuring-it-out-as-we-go moment that briefly renders explicit the warmth, friendship, and creative freedom that is the album’s heart.

In the label's own words:

"Kennedy returns to another musical dream state bringing nocturnal visions to life through the power of machines. Including three tracks of borderless Hi Tech Soul music, on this third 12" in the series he widens his sonic scope via elements of Jazz and African rhythms next to his own distinctive take on the original sounds of Detroit.

It's another musical offering that comes from deep within mind, body and soul. Side a sounds like a warm fusion of loose rhythms and glowing synths determined by machines, whereas the b-side is more explicitly human-made with flute recorded live by Amsterdam Jazz man Han Litz, bringing a lightness of touch that imbues the music with hope and optimism. Beneath that, a battery of drums is set free calling up acoustic sounds driving from deep inside in a dense forest.

This third translation of thoughts, sensations and sounds is another emotive coming together of man and machine that will find yourself invited to gaze off into an infinite sonic cosmos."

For their debut album, Chappaqua Wrestling knew that they wanted to step above the noise of the concrete everyday. “To match their song about political despondency and social change, Jake Mac and Charlie Woods wanted to create surrealist artwork, teetering on the brink of despair and release.

“We wanted to kind of render ourselves in, jumping off this roof with a beautiful landscape behind it,” says Jake. “Falling gracefully, but also potentially not making this crazy fall.”

“It’s a record about exploring,” nods Charlie. “We just wanted to get something that has us thrusting ourselves into this new place, but get this weird eye-trickery thing going on. You want to start a conversation, like is this real? Maybe that’s for us to know…”"

There's no denying the power of the drum. It's primal, it cuts across borders and most importantly, it makes you want to move. Ghetto Kumbé don't just understand that_they celebrate it, and it's why the tambor was at the heart of the Bogotá-based trio's 2020 self-titled debut album. Rooted in mysticism and the Afro-Caribbean rhythms they'd grown up with all their lives, the critically acclaimed LP thrillingly updated the traditional Latin template, folding in elements of modern hip-hop, house and bass music while also delivering a transportive Afro-futurist vision. On Clubbing Remixes, that vision has been further amplified, as Ghetto Kumbé_who were already one of Colombia's most prominent alternative acts_have now gone fully global; enlisting an all-star roster of artists from four different continents, they've put together a fresh version of their debut album that's been specifically geared to the world's diverse slate of dancefloors. As the title implies, the new LP is meant for the club, which is why Ghetto Kumbé have turned to Latin music heavyweights like Trooko_a multiple Grammy winner whose resume includes work with Lin-Manuel Miranda and Residente_and Monte (a.k.a. Bomba Estéreo founder Simón Mejía), along with top-shelf DJs like Nickodemus and Uproot Andy, two NYC artists who've spent decades championing Afro-Latin rhythms. True to the LP's global spirit, the record also includes reworks from batida maestro DJ Firmeza, fellow Afro-Portuguese outfit Studio Bros and Parisian house groovers Les Enfants Sauvages, plus genre-blurring remixes from sonically adventurous Colombians Montoya (himself another ZZK artist) and Cero39. Even the artwork on Clubbing Remixes is a remix, as Ghetto Kumbé have tapped Uganda's Denzel Muhumuza to transform the cover of their debut album into a new, explicitly Afro-futuristic illustration. Depicting a strong Black face and glowing neon fauna beneath a sparkling moonlit sky, the fantastical image speaks to both the ritual magic and Afro-indebted heritage of Ghetto Kumbé's music, and thanks to Clubbing Remixes, the group's passionate, drum-fueled sounds will soon be blasting out of sound systems around the globe.

Woke rhythms and high-spirited grooves from the vaults of two seminal Italian jazz labels, between the 70s and 80s. Intensely curated by Khalab.

Hyperituals is a philological investigation that deeply delves into the possibilities of sound, rhythm, remix, and endless sampling. Inspiring listening, interpretation, and reinterpretation.
This volume is dedicated to the catalogue of the Italian Black Saint. Thanks to a constant, cutting-edge, and meticulous commitment, Black Saint & Soul Note established themself as two of the most important imprints for international jazz. They always placed the artists, their visions, and their music at the centre, giving them total freedom of creative expression. By combining jazz tradition with the political vanguard sentiment of the time, the two labels were able to press and produce more than five hundred records, many of which are by some of the brightest names in creative jazz or the ‘avant-garde’ of the era.
Curated by Khalab, the selection - focused on rhythms, grooves, and Afrocentric traditions - blends moments in which the rhythmic aspect is powerfully explicit, with others in which the kinetic aspect dialogues on different levels with African American cultural contexts.

After an interminable wait due to the vinyl manufacture crisis, Mercury 200 is back stronger than ever, supplying some homegrown material that is conceivably as potent as GOTG001. This time they teamed up with 2 legendary OG's, Apoc Krysis & MCR-T, to spice up your musical experience and bring you the best of the two worlds. Dealing at the intersection of breakbeat, Ghetto tech and trance, this record will definitely catch your attention. Parental Advisory Explicit Content. Legally available only on prescription.

For the first track of the vinyl, they teamed up with the Atlanta based rapper Apoc Krysis to blend two opposite genres in a Memphis rap infused techno banger. This unique collaboration put on the table whats the both side has the best to offer: powerful and lethal flow. This track is here to pick you up and put you back on your feet after a breakup. When nobody's there for you, this track is.

Full of fast and filthy grooves "Caramelo" is the track that will make you sweat. A heavy stomping beat with devilish vocals ready to make your ghetto inner self dance. Heavy grooves and a powerful bassline this track will slap you into consciousness. 100% Floor impact guaranteed.

On the flip side we start with an outstanding collaboration with Berlin most notorious player in the ghetto house-techno scene: MCR-T. An uplifting, instant serotonin booster.

Building up the tension at the start with a breakbeat and OG (original gangsta) lyrics, the tracks eventually turns into four to the floor house infused groove. Party killer guaranteed!

Last track but not the least consists in a classic mercury 200 signature breakbeat track. A fine blend of trancy and infectious melodies with a short rap hook and chest punching drums.

Yellow Vinyl

Message of the Artist:

“Before becoming a producer, I grew up with labels such as Cenobite, K.N.O.R., Cold Rush and Ruffneck Records; this emblematic 1990s hardcore sound has influenced me heavily, even though it has never explicitly featured in my music. But I feel it’s time to return from exile, and so I have started to dig up the relics and present my interpretation of that great style: The energetic kicks, the sweeping sounds, the samples. Enjoy my piece of modern arkaeology!”

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape_at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire's new album Every Acre grapples with those themes_themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming_claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage_permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In "New View," McEntire cites poets "Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds"_fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire's voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: "Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me_I'll take more of you." Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, "Shadows" develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss_reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how "to make room." How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, "Rows of Clover" is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a "steadfast hound." The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers-esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being "down on your knees, clawing at the garden"_the only explicit mention of a person in the song. "It ain't the easy kind of healing," sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing ta;kes time, time takes time_truths that linger painfully. "Dovetail" is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire's gentle, trembling vibrato_harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner_calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions_such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia_that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre ex - plores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life_both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

Orange Viny

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape_at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire's new album Every Acre grapples with those themes_themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming_claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage_permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In "New View," McEntire cites poets "Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds"_fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire's voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: "Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me_I'll take more of you." Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, "Shadows" develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss_reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how "to make room." How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, "Rows of Clover" is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a "steadfast hound." The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers-esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being "down on your knees, clawing at the garden"_the only explicit mention of a person in the song. "It ain't the easy kind of healing," sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing ta;kes time, time takes time_truths that linger painfully. "Dovetail" is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire's gentle, trembling vibrato_harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner_calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions_such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia_that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre ex - plores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life_both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire’s new album Every Acre grapples with those themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In “New View,” McEntire cites poets “Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds” fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire’s voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: “Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me I’ll take more of you.” Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, “Shadows” develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how “to make room.” How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, “Rows of Clover” is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a “steadfast hound.” The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers–esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being “down on your knees, clawing at the garden” the only explicit mention of a person in the song. “It ain’t the easy kind of healing,” sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing takes time, time takes time truths that linger painfully. “Dovetail” is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire’s gentle, trembling vibrato harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre explores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

For Fans Of... Michael Kiwanuka, The Black Keys, Curtis Harding, Black Pumas. Latest 7” from Philly band named Artist to Watch by NPR station WXPN. Features signature Synth & Soul production from Eraserhood Sound. Follows the 2022 7” Money In Your Mouth / Miss Me. Philadelphia band Stereo League has always been about discovering new genres and working with collaborators who can bring unique sensibilities to their music. On their latest 7” Operator, Please / Seasons of Trouble, the band, comprised of childhood friends Alex Savoth and Dan King, continued their fruitful partnership with the synth & soul record label and production crew Eraserhood Sound. Following the success of the group’s 2021 EP Endless Mirage, the band, again under the guidance of EHS, have created two more timeless, soulful songs, each with their own unique personality. The A side “Operator, Please” is a swampy, seductive throwback to 70s soul and funk, evoking the indelible Southern sound from classic labels like Hi and Cat. The flip side “Seasons of Trouble” puts a bowtie on the funk, taking its cues from the classic Philly soul of The Delfonics, The O’Jays, and more. Stereo League, who have been named Artist to Watch by NPR station WXPN, believe this release to be the clearest and best representation of their vision to date, delivering the classic, yet thrilling sound they have been searching for. Tracks: 1. Operator, Please 2. Seasons of Trouble (Explicit)

True concept albums are actually few and far between. While it can be said that The Who’s Tommy and Quadrophenia, or Pink Floyd’s The Wall were designed from the ground up, that’s not necessarily the case for equally mythical, yet composite, albums such as Bowie’s The Rise And Fall of Ziggy Stardust…, or Lou Reed’s Berlin. In France, the genre established its pedigree in the 1970s with Serge Gainsbourg, then in the early 1980s with Léo Ferré. Cri d'amour by Mélanie Chédeville adds to this list of albums that tell a story through characters.

Cri d'amour was produced in a seaside setting, which may explain its flowing, organic character. It is all by herself that the violinist-by-training composed, wrote and arranged this collection of string-drenched songs that recall Jean-Claude Vannier’s work for Serge Gainsbourg. The latter would undoubtedly have been impressed by Mélanie’s fine-cut lyrics and melodies that are as raw as they are sophisticated, vocalized in a sprechgesang recalling his own. The deliberately retro palette, up to the bass sound so typical of 1960s English rock, betrays an artist indebted to the creator of Bonnie & Clyde and Initials B.B. through a sensual, clear tonality. Yet, polyrhythms borrowed from the late afro-beat legend Tony Allen, and the touches of guitar, piano, percussion and synthesizers distilled here and there by Éric and Mélanie, end up giving the whole affair a resolutely atemporal color.

Mélanie was sixteen with a head full of Beethoven and Brahms when she succumbed to an unexpected fascination for the world of Éric, a pianist, composer and sound engineer, who regularly delivered scores for Marc Dorcel’s X-rated films. She evokes him in L'Alpha-bêta and Le Pornographe, through whispered choruses that would suit the late Julee Cruise or Vanessa Daou to a tee, and explicit allusions to a “sword of Damocles” of “XXL” dimensions.

These are not the only texts on this album that remind us of the Franco-American author Anaïn Nin’s erotic poems, a model that Mélanie willingly takes on, adding to the list of her literary influences alongside Apollinaire and his Debauched Hospodar:

Some may find this album old-fashioned, which, far from being a flaw, is a credit to the fine musician that Mélanie is. Others will call it a charming album, which is not a bad way to describe it, provided that it is a powerfully relentless charm.

Green Vinyl

Föllakzoid are nearly unparalleled in the hypnotic lysergic drenched neo-psychedelic experience. On their debut it is mostly a rather bulky one, determined by the downright dirty, distorted electric guitar, which is also usually accompanied by a spacey, howling and herbaceous howling one. In addition, there is fat bass and powerful drums. During the prolific post-napster musical era dominated by myspace, the Chilean musical field opened up so that many bands could broaden their creative spectrum by taking global and timeless references as an aesthetic holy grail. This experimentation had the internet and specialized forums as a search engine, which not only provided the world parameters in trends, but also allowed to find true hidden gems, bands that were adored by a few connoisseurs of the real quality left behind by the record labels. In this context, a group of university students who have known each other from school began to rehearse in the Caracol Vip underground (Santiago, Chile), in a room owned by a local heavy-metal legend, Juanzer. Equipped with tube amplifiers, Marshall and other custom made, the members of that time: Gonzalo Laguna on vocals, Juan Pablo Rodriguez on bass, Domingo García-Huidobro on guitar, Diego Lorca on drums and Francisco Zenteno on second guitar, they began to play endless jams without a strict sense of songs or directed compositional notion. The rule was to follow the noise in a journey through valleys and peaks that allowed the spontaneous appearance of textures, lyrics, phrases and some invented chords that did not resemble anything that had been heard at that time. The rehearsals were transformed into true live performances without an audience, which were only seen by a few curious, among alcohol, smoke and deafening noise, which could only end when the owner of the room (Juanzer) entered to turn off the equipment. Over time he himself stayed as an auditor, witnessing how the musicians stripped themselves in their rehearsals. Considered at that time as play or fun, the idea of forming a band with a name came with the real live performances to which they were invited, without yet having songs made, at the end of 2006. The myth of their first live performance alludes to a numerical superstition, on July 7, 2007, in a small bar in Providencia (Santiago), which also provided the band with an upward recognition for the psychedelic-punk music they were doing, with a voracious vocalist who destroyed everything on stage and a band that stood firm on the endless songs they built. The name that was invented for that occasion was the result of a nonsense about the German word feuerzeug brought to the group by their close friend Alfredo Thiermann (who would later make the cover of the first album and become keyboardist), which the members of that time took and Spanishized at will. This neologism represents the second founding myth of the band since the interest in bands like Can, Neu! and AMON DUUL II and the characteristic motorik rhythm would soon arrive, in the form of kosmische musik. By 2008 the band had already added several live performances and some songs appeared, among which were Directo al Sol and Loop (nod to the English band), which allowed a greater deployment of ambient-noise resources, almost close to the 'concrete' music. The deconstructed rock of Spacemen 3 was also present in the form of repeated sequences on the bass and drums, as the layers of shrill guitars formed the foam of the tide bursting in the darkness of space. With the ideas and general feeling of the sound that they already had, the band made the decision to record their first album with the sound engineer and Juan Pablo's brother, Ignacio 'Nes' Rodríguez, who later together with JP would form the BYM label to make the first CDs of the forthcoming debut of Föllakzoid and other bands that Nes was recording. Sheltered that winter in the studio that Nes had built in an old house in Recoleta, the band recorded the bulk of the songs on the album with a new jam that emerged in that room composed of 1 note and moments of rising intensity: Sky Input I and II appeared to complete a set of songs that came from rock but were slowly passing to a level of trance and cacophony typical of orchestrated and atonal music. With three takes per song but only one take of the jam, the album was finished with a few extra takes and overdubs, some made in the house of Nes himself, who contributed a guitar to Loop, although it does not appear in the credits, and additional takes of "Pelao" Zenteno with delay and reverse for almost all songs. The names of the songs came from the lyrics that Laguna had worked from the live versions to the studio finals, except for Loop, Sky Input and El Humo. The cover of the album, which as mentioned was made by Thiermann, represents well the spirit of those days, when creative magma looked for an outlet through the instruments without any restriction or explicit direction from any of the members of the group. The image of the tree towards the sky speaks of the roots that rise towards the immensity, the nature projected towards the stratosphere. Ideas that the neo-psychedelia of those years seemed to capture well, echoing in the Chilean bands that at that time were gathering around the BYM label. Both the creative fluency and the lack of a musical director ensured that Föllakzoid was an original band that did not impose themselves a way of doing things or sounding, collective music took shape in the most wonderful way, without characters, without a record name, without faces. Just an instant in space. 2022 GALAXY GREEN coloured vinyl

Wau Wau Collectif's second album, Mariage, is instilled with a newfound sense of purpose. Expanding upon the inspirational themes of their acclaimed 2021 debut, Yaral Sa Doom (Educate The Young), this long distance collaboration from musicians in Senegal and Sweden's Karl Jonas Winqvist is an even more stylistically expansive affair. Joyful children's songs collide with fuzzy guitar solos and thumping hip-hop beats. Shimmering synths lift off from the plunky percussion of the balafon and versatile sounds of the 22-string kora. Familiar voices from the first album return with more explicitly political lyrics, while the music feels both rhythmically dense and sonically weightless, flowing from one spellbinding moment to the next. For Mariage, band members from each country were inspired to include a wider array of instrumental flourishes unique to their cross-continental collaboration. "Yay Balma" revolves around the cycling riffs of Jango Diabaté's xalam guitar, as this song's fuzzy tones and soaring sax solos open side two with a bang. "Pitchi Goubidi" provides a stark contrast, with the kora played like a harp and Gilbert Badji's gravelly lyrics about "the bird of the night" disappearing into dubbed-out chamber pop. Winqvist's omnichord hovers back into focus on "Yonou Natangue," a free-floating jam that maintains the messages of Wau Wau Collectif's debut, promoting youth education to address the social issues facing contemporary Senegal: "Peace is the better wealth / The way to wander."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tongues North Star Remixes stretches out the vast musical universe of Tanya Tagaq, which encompasses experimental, avant, electronic, industrial and more, into a collection that features remixes by Daedelus, Kronos Quartet, Ash Koosha, The Halluci Nation and others, including many frequent collaborators. Tongues, produced by Saul Williams and co-produced by Gonjasufi, is Tanya Tagaq at her most explicit and specific. Delicate, poetic passages from Split Tooth, Tagaq’s bestselling, award winning mythobiography, crash against an industrial, electronic exoskeleton. Tongues is a journey into a psychic place of healing, rebirth and artistic Power with a capital “P” that will shake the world.exp

“I’ve been coming a thousand years / you could call me the endless fuck,” goes the memorable opening line of Rubblebucket’s Earth Worship, a dance-forward, joyously layered collection of songs which work to dissolve the imaginary lines between the natural world and its inhabitants. Kalmia Traver and Alex Toth, the group’s front persons and co-writers, first began a friendship as jazz students at the University of Vermont. Soon after, they formed a prolific band that has delved into pop, funk, dance and psychedelia over five records, with performances spanning Bonnaroo to their self-curated Dream Picnic Festival, and collaborations with kindred genre-blenders including Arcade Fire and Questlove. But Traver and Toth initially bonded over another shared passion: the two were part of UVM’s Sustainable Community Development program. Though Toth communes with nature as part of his morning routine, and Traver is adept at foraging in the band’s adopted home of New York, songwriting explicitly about environmentalism in Rubblebucket has felt immaterial—besides, the band has shared its beliefs over the years by inviting anti-fracking, reproductive justice, and other organizations to table at their shows. But Traver was interested in writing love songs for and from the natural world, and both were inspired by their parents’ work in ecology and community facilitation, from which they saw a throughline to music’s communal healing. Traver suggested “earth worship” as a lyrical prompt for their sixth record, and with this concept at its core, the duo began writing Earth Worship: a Rubblebucket album with renewed shimmer, showcasing the group’s intricately sparkling beats, hushed yet hooky vocals and infectious melodic complexity.

“I’ve been coming a thousand years / you could call me the endless fuck,” goes the memorable opening line of Rubblebucket’s Earth Worship, a dance-forward, joyously layered collection of songs which work to dissolve the imaginary lines between the natural world and its inhabitants. Kalmia Traver and Alex Toth, the group’s front persons and co-writers, first began a friendship as jazz students at the University of Vermont. Soon after, they formed a prolific band that has delved into pop, funk, dance and psychedelia over five records, with performances spanning Bonnaroo to their self-curated Dream Picnic Festival, and collaborations with kindred genre-blenders including Arcade Fire and Questlove. But Traver and Toth initially bonded over another shared passion: the two were part of UVM’s Sustainable Community Development program. Though Toth communes with nature as part of his morning routine, and Traver is adept at foraging in the band’s adopted home of New York, songwriting explicitly about environmentalism in Rubblebucket has felt immaterial—besides, the band has shared its beliefs over the years by inviting anti-fracking, reproductive justice, and other organizations to table at their shows. But Traver was interested in writing love songs for and from the natural world, and both were inspired by their parents’ work in ecology and community facilitation, from which they saw a throughline to music’s communal healing. Traver suggested “earth worship” as a lyrical prompt for their sixth record, and with this concept at its core, the duo began writing Earth Worship: a Rubblebucket album with renewed shimmer, showcasing the group’s intricately sparkling beats, hushed yet hooky vocals and infectious melodic complexity.

“I’ve been coming a thousand years / you could call me the endless fuck,” goes the memorable opening line of Rubblebucket’s Earth Worship, a dance-forward, joyously layered collection of songs which work to dissolve the imaginary lines between the natural world and its inhabitants. Kalmia Traver and Alex Toth, the group’s front persons and co-writers, first began a friendship as jazz students at the University of Vermont. Soon after, they formed a prolific band that has delved into pop, funk, dance and psychedelia over five records, with performances spanning Bonnaroo to their self-curated Dream Picnic Festival, and collaborations with kindred genre-blenders including Arcade Fire and Questlove. But Traver and Toth initially bonded over another shared passion: the two were part of UVM’s Sustainable Community Development program. Though Toth communes with nature as part of his morning routine, and Traver is adept at foraging in the band’s adopted home of New York, songwriting explicitly about environmentalism in Rubblebucket has felt immaterial—besides, the band has shared its beliefs over the years by inviting anti-fracking, reproductive justice, and other organizations to table at their shows. But Traver was interested in writing love songs for and from the natural world, and both were inspired by their parents’ work in ecology and community facilitation, from which they saw a throughline to music’s communal healing. Traver suggested “earth worship” as a lyrical prompt for their sixth record, and with this concept at its core, the duo began writing Earth Worship: a Rubblebucket album with renewed shimmer, showcasing the group’s intricately sparkling beats, hushed yet hooky vocals and infectious melodic complexity.

Adding to what already has been a tremendous year for the Berlin-based producer, Nat Wendell returns home for his third release on his very own imprint, Depths of My Soul. On the surface, DMS 003 may appear to be vintage—and pulsating—Wendell. Under the cracks of these three tracks, though, is a producer moving towards music as a tool of political and musical advancement.

A1’s “Takes These Chains off My Mind” is an explicit cry from liberation away from mental slavery, an anthem for, in the words of Wendell himself, people “emancipating themselves from mental slavery, placed on black and people of colour alike.”

B1’s “Tha Music” plays on similar ideas of music as liberation, jolting dancers into submission with its rolling hats and snappy arrangements that will easily fit into any house head's bag. Judging by the name,

B2’s “Questioning Existence” may seem a tad existential—but, taking a late-nite 90’s garage cue from his own hometown, it’s anything but!

“If you can’t say it, you don’t have to,” sings John Fullbright on “Bearden 1645,” the opening track to his new record “The Liar,” out September 30, 2022. The song details Fullbright finding refuge in playing the piano, starting as a child and still today. For fans, it may feel like a bit of a rebuttal to “Happy,” the opener from 2014’s “Songs,” one of several in his repertoire that speak explicitly about mining one’s angst in order to make music. In that way, “Bearden 1645” is also a firm nod to the fourth wall: Fullbright knows you’re thinking about his songwriting. He is, too…but not quite the way he was before. The public at-large hasn’t heard much from him since the critically lauded “Songs,” a chasm of eight years that seemed unthinkable for an artist with so much hype surrounding his early career. Why did it take so long? “Honestly, I don’t know, and that’s been the scariest question to think about and the hardest one to answer,” Fullbright said. Maybe it was a tacit rejection of mounting industry pressure, mixed with a little fear. Or maybe it was the adjustment to a massive upheaval of his way of life. Whether we bore witness or not, it’s been a critical period of change for Fullbright, now in his 30s. Since his last release, he moved out of rural Oklahoma—the aforementioned Bearden has a population of about 130 people—to Tulsa. Once there, he worked to build a place for himself in the context of an established and vibrant musical coterie, performing often as both a bandleader and, more curiously, a sideman: storied loner John Fullbright lugging a piano from this small stage to that one with an uncharacteristic looseness. “It’s been a process of learning how to be in a community of musicians and less focusing on the lone, depressed songwriter…just playing something that has a beat and is really fun,” Fullbright said. “That’s not to say there are no songs on this record where I depart from that, because there are, but there's also a band with an opinion

From the folk punk roots of Carry Me, through the anthemic One Way, Fifteen Years and Top 20 hits Hope Street, Just The One and Beautiful Day - more recent tracks such as Truth Is, The Cholera Well and The Recruiting Sgt show the Levellers' mix of scathing political comment and positive DIY attitude to life hasn't dissipated over the years.

Most exciting of all, there are brand new recordings of the Levellers collaborating with contemporary artists re-working some of their classic material. Imelda May is the Queen of all time on Beautiful Day, while Bellowhead and the legendary Billy Bragg help out on Just The One and Hope Street respectively.

Finally, lifelong Levellers fan Frank Turner joined the band in the studio - breathing new life into Julie - bringing us back full circle for another generation of the disenfranchised to discover the Levellers for the first time.

Note price increase and cat number change from last time around. In 1968, Don Cherry had already established himself as one of the leading voices of the avant-garde. Having pioneered free jazz as a member of Ornette Coleman's classic quartet, and with a high profile collaboration with John Coltrane under his belt, the globetrotting jazz trumpeter settled in Sweden with his partner Moki and her daughter Neneh. There, he assembled a group of Swedish musicians and led a series of weekly workshops at the ABF, or Workers' Educational Association, from February to April of 1968, with lessons on extended forms of improvisation including breathing, drones, Turkish rhythms, overtones, silence, natural voices, and Indian scales. That summer, saxophonist and recording engineer Göran Freese who later recorded Don's classic Organic Music Society and Eternal Now LPs invited Don, members of his two working bands, and a Turkish drummer to his summer house in Kummelnäs, just outside of Stockholm, for a series of rehearsals and jam sessions that put the prior months' workshops into practice. Long relegated to the status of a mysterious footnote in Don's sessionography, tapes from this session, as well as one professionally mixed tape intended for release, were recently found in the vaults of the Swedish Jazz Archive, and the lost Summer House Sessions are finally available over fifty years after they were recorded. On July 20, the musicians gathered at Freese's summer house included Bernt Rosengren (tenor saxophone, flutes, clarinet), Tommy Koverhult (tenor saxophone, flutes), Leif Wennerström (drums), and Torbjörn Hultcrantz (bass) from Don's Swedish group; Jacques Thollot (drums) and Kent Carter (bass) from his newly formed international band New York Total Music Company; Bülent Ates (hand drum, drums), who was visiting from Turkey; and Don (pocket trumpet, flutes, percussion) himself. Lacking a common language, the players used music as their common means of communication. In this way, these frenetic and freewheeling sessions anticipate Don's turn to more explicitly pan-ethnic expression, preceding his epochal Eternal Rhythm dates by four months. The octet, comprising musicians from America, France, Sweden, and Turkey, was a perfect vehicle for Don's budding pursuit of "collage music," a concept inspired in part by the shortwave radio on which Don listened to sounds from around the world. Using the collage metaphor, Don eliminated solos and the introduction of tunes, transforming a wealth of melodies, sounds, and rhythms into poetic suites of different moods and changing forms. The Summer House Sessions ensemble joyously layers manifold cultural idioms, traversing the airy peaks and serene valleys of Cherry's earthly vision. In the Swedish Jazz Archive quite a few other recordings from the same day were to be found. Some of the highlights are heard as bonus material on the CD edition of this album. The octet is augmented by producer and saxophone player Gunnar Lindqvist, who led the Swedish free jazz orchestra G.L. Unit on the album Orangutang, and drummer Sune Spångberg, who recorded with Albert Ayler in 1962. The bonus CD also includes a track without Cherry featuring Jacques Thollot joined by five Swedes including Lindqvist, Tommy Koverhult, Sune Spångberg, and others. With liner notes by Magnus Nygren and album art featuring a cover painting by Moki Cherry: Untitled, ca. 1967-68. Track list: 1. Summer House Sessions 2. Summer House Sessions.

Repressed !

Fuzzed out and psychedelic covers of rare and classic tracks performed by San Francisco's Monophonics.
Monophonics are back with a six-song EP that fuses the complimentary and explosive soul, rock and funk influences, proving themselves to be the rightful inheritors of the Bay Area’s impressive psychedelic soul sound. Mirrors is comprised entirely of cover tunes, except that I doubt you’ve ever heard of half the deeply funky and soulful originals that inspired these soulful, tastefully produced, and timeless Monophonics treatments. “We wanted to do a couple songs that were more familiar to people and then shine some light on groups we’re big into,” lead singer, keyboardist and co-producer Kelly Finnigan explains. It takes a lot of guts to cover your favorite songs, your van jams, that song you play as a shot of inspiration to break-up a marathon studio session. “Not only are these great songs, but these are artists that we listen to and are influenced by.”

“It’s not about making records that sound old, it’s about making records that sound cool,” Kelly says. Not that he and the other five members of Monophonics mind if you confuse their albums for classic-era recordings. Even musician friends regular mistake a sweaty and greasy Monophonics original for an unheard Bar-Kays’ side, or a deep soul cover tune might pass for an original to a novice ear, except that Kelly makes sure to give credit where credit is due, which is what they do explicitly on this EP, Mirrors.

Even the familiar tunes, iconic, better said, receive a fresh treatment as instrumentals, despite their ubiquity as vocal songs. The EP opens with a ‘tip of the cap’ to The Main Ingredient’s version of “Summer Breeze” before the band unfolds a hazy, mellow-funk opus worthy of inclusion on a Bob James CTI album. The next four songs, all featuring vocals, range from the lowrider soul ballad, a cover of the The Invicibles’ “My Heart Cries” with a pleading and plaintive vocal by Nicole Smith, to the psychedelic blues stomp, “Lying,” originally by the archetypical psychedelic soul band nearly signed to Motown, Black Merda. Add in Kelly’s monster vocal take on Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons Northern Soul classic, “Beggin” (to be released as a 7” single with an instrumental version on the b-side), and the deep-funk pop-soul of Nu People’s “I’d be Nowhere Without You” with back-up vocals by Jeanine Jones and Veronica Johnson, and you have a highly-entertaining, toe-tapping, backbone-slipping, masterclass in deep funk and soul.

The final tune is the band’s singular take on the Mamas and the Papas hippie standard, “California Dreaming,” as an explicit and heartfelt tribute to their fans in Greece. The discerning music lovers of Greece fell in love with Monophonics after their 2012 hit “Bang Bang” resulting in multiple tours of the Mediterranean, where these native Californians imbibed on the fine ouzo, good vibes, and Grecian hospitality. Gifted a prized bouzouki (a traditional Greek guitar) by a local fan, Monophonics’ guitarist Ian McDonald and band infused this classic pop song with a soulful cinematic air and Mediterranean flavor, evoking a tune from an imagined Fellini film with a soundtrack by David Axelrod.

Catch the band on the road this Spring to hear some of these songs, favorites and new tunes from their forthcoming LP.

What does it mean to feel pride - to feel love? Not just romantic
desire, but an all-encompassing love built around acceptance
and unconditional respect? For 24-year-old indie/alternative
artist NoSo, they seek out the answers in their work. The title of
their debut album ‘Stay Proud of Me’ is an entreaty to their past
self, as they dauntlessly forge ahead to become the person and
artist they’ve always wanted to be.
 NoSo is shorthand for North/South: A nod to their Korean
heritage, and the inane origin question (“Which Korea are you
from?”) that so many Korean Americans inevitably face at some
point in their lives. Hwong’s writing often indirectly grapples with
the insecurities and frustrations that can arise from the Asian
American experience.
 Just as there is no singular Asian American experience, there is
no singular LGBTQ experience. Hwong, a queer non-binary
person, remembers that the first time they realized they were
attracted to women was when they wrote a romantic song with
femme pronouns. They don’t remember ever explicitly coming
out in public; from the start, their declaration of themselves to
the world at large has always been through music.
 Support tours with Yumi Zouma, Lucy Dacus and Molly Burch in
the US. First ever London headline show at The Waiting Room
on 20 July, followed by Bluedot Festival 22 July.
 ‘Stay Proud of Me’ will be released on Partisan Records
(IDLES, Fontaines D.C., Laura Marling).

Bazan got his start playing to the Christian rock scene, but the narrative
arc of his albums has traced his crisis of faith and his questioning of the
Evangelical Christian world in which he was raised
Yet, this record is not a final statement, not a "breakup letter to G_d." It's the
deepest and most explicit exploration of his struggles to date, and a meditation
on all things passed between the generations, and for the first time in a while,
Bazan seems actually interested in re- engaging in conversations with the
Evangelical community about his doubts (for example, for the first time in years,
he'll be playing huge Christian music festival Cornerstone this summer). Curse
Your Branches is a masterwork by a modern American poet (Paste called him one
of the "100 best American songwriters" in a piece that followed the release of his
solo EP Fewer Moving Parts) at the height of his powers.

Toro y Moi’s seventh studio album, ‘MAHAL’, is the boldest and most fascinating journey yet
from musical mastermind Chaz Bear. The record spans genre and sound - encompassing the
shaggy psychedelic rock of the 1960s and ‘70s, and the airy sounds of 1990s mod-post-rock -
taking listeners on an auditory expedition, as if they’re riding in the back of Bear’s Filipino
jeepney that adorns the album’s cover. But ‘MAHAL’ is also an unmistakably Toro y Moi
experience, calling back to previous works while charting a new path forward in a way that only
Bear can do.
 ‘MAHAL’ is the latest in an accomplished career for Bear, who’s undoubtedly one of the
decade’s most influential musicians. Since the release of the electronic pop landmark ‘Causers
of This’ in 2009, subsequent records as Toro y Moi have repeatedly shifted the idea of what his
sound can be. But there’s little in Bear’s catalogue that will prepare you for the deep-groove
excursions on ‘MAHAL’, his most eclectic record to date.
 The second the album begins we’re immediately transported into the passenger seat, jeep
sounds and all, ready for the ride Chaz and company have concocted for us. Seeds of some of
‘MAHAL’s 13 songs date back to the more explicitly rock-oriented ‘What For?’ from 2015.
 ‘MAHAL’ was mostly completed last year in Bear’s Oakland studio with the involvement of a
host of collaborators, Sofie Royer and Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s Ruban Neilson to Neon
Indian’s Alan Palomo and the Mattson 2.
 “I wanted to make a record that featured more musicians on it than any other record of mine,”
he explains. “To have them live on that record feels grounded, bringing a communal
perspective to the table.” As a result, ‘MAHAL’ is lush and surprising at every turn, from the
cool-handed ‘The Loop’, which recalls Sly and the Family Stone, to the elastic psych rock of
‘Foreplay’ and the dizzying Mulatu Astatke-recalling of ‘Last Year’.
 Lyrically, the album zooms in on generational concerns, picking up where the ‘Outer Peace’
standout ‘Freelance’ effectively left off. Bear seems to be surveying the ways in which we
connect with technology, media, each other, and what disappears as a result. Cuts like the
squishy ‘Postman’ and ‘Magazine’ take a deep dive into our relationship with media in a
changing digital world. “It’s interesting to see how we adapt to this new age. We’re so
connected, but we’re still missing out on things,” Bear ruminates while discussing the album’s
themes.
 It’s not all introspection. Bear cools things down near the album’s end with the Mattson 2-
featuring ‘Millennium’, a laid-back jam with tricky guitar licks about ringing in new times even
when everything else seems upside down. “It’s about enjoying the new year, even when it’s
been shitty,” Bear explains. “There’s nothing else to do.”
 Finding a sense of joy in the face of adversity is embedded in ‘MAHAL’s DNA, right down to the
jeepney that literally and figuratively brings the music out into the community. “We know that
touring is messed up for now, and large gatherings are a fluke,” he explains. “It’s about the
notion of us going out to the people and bringing the record to them.” And with the wide-open
atmosphere of ‘MAHAL’, Toro y Moi stands to connect with more listeners than ever before.

The Tribe Records co-founder’s lost album, rumored to exist no more. Mastered from the original tapes and lacquered by Bernie Grundman. “As I thought about reecting on an aggregate of music for this album, I projected my attitude and spirit while living and working here, in Detroit, Michigan. We are earning and learning a new way of life, which explicitly tells us to become self-reliant in taking care of our families and each other. Government hand-outs are not an option for us.” -Wendell Harrison The first ever issue of this Spiritual Jazz album. The Tribe label, one of the brightest lights of America’s 1970s jazz underground, receives the Now-Again reissue treatment. This is your chance to indulge in the music and story of one of the most meaningful, local movements of the 20th Century Black American experience, one that expanded outwards towards the cosmos. In the words of the collective themselves, “Music is the healing force of the universe.” Included in an extensive, oversized booklet, Larry Gabriel and Jeff “Chairman” Mao take us through the history of the Tribe, in a compelling story that delves not just into the history of the label and its principals, but into the story of Black American empowerment in the latter half of the 20th Century. The booklet features never-before-seen archival photos and rare ephemera from Tribe’s mid-1970s heyday.

Renowned agent and jazz pioneer Wim Wigt founded Timeless Records in 1975. This Dutch record label has specialized in bebop, although it also did a sub-series of releases of Dixieland, Swing and Classical recordings. As of today, Timeless Records has, together with its three sub-labels, released over 900 albums. Notable releases include Dizzy Gillespie Meets Phil Woods Quintet, McCoy Tyner's Bon Voyage, Lou Donaldson's Forgotten Man, Eastern Rebellion and albums by the George Adams-Don Pullen Quartet, Chet Baker, Bill Evans, Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers and many more.

To celebrate the legacy of Wim Wigt's Timeless Records, Music On Vinyl is releasing a 45th anniversary jazz series. The series features albums that are part of the Timeless Records legacy and will be released throughout 2021/2022. To kick off this series, Pharoah Sanders' Africa is released on the 19th of November 2021.

Pharoah Sanders possesses one of the most distinctive tenor saxophone sounds in jazz, which has earned him royal status amongst free jazz players, critics and collectors. Harmonically rich and heavy with overtones, his sound can be as raw and abrasive as it is possible for a saxophonist to produce. His 1987 album Africa is soulful but also searching for a strong groove at the same time. The album is recorded with John Hicks, Curtis Lundy and Idris Muhammad and was an explicit tribute to his late mentor John Coltrane, another giant of jazz.

Africa by Pharoah Sanders is available on black vinyl. The album includes an insert with upcoming Timeless Records titles from the Timeless Records 45th Anniversary Jazz series. The sleeve contains liner notes by Kevin Whitehead.