Search:da real deal

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Embrace have announced their eighth studio album 'How To Be A Person
Like Other People' will be released on their own Mo'betta label
Talking about the album, Richard said "Whenever we put out a new album it's
always a really big deal to us, we put everything we have into it. We know that
there's something about what we do that people love, that they just don't get from
other bands. It's like a pact, they want us to be intimate and personal and
autobiographical, but they also want us to be confident and rousing and
anthemic. It sounds like a contradiction, but I think when we're at our best we
somehow pull it off. I think in that sense this album is the most Embrace album
we've ever made".
Meanwhile the band have announced tour dates in support of the new album,
including their biggest London show in over 17 years at Brixton Academy on
Friday 9th September, a venue the band last played in 2005.
Produced and mixed by Richard McNamara at Magnetic North Studios the new
album is the follow-up to the band's 2018 Top 5 album, Love Is A Basic Need.

Contrast gives art dimension. The juxtaposition of two seemingly disparate elements sparks friction, bringing life to any canvas. The Devil Wears Prada rely on contrast as they nimbly balance metallic turbulence, hardcore spirit, provocatively eloquent lyricism, and melodic exorcism. In between these opposing extremes, the band—Mike Hranica vocals, Jeremy DePoyster [guitar, vocals], Kyle Sipress [guitar], Jonathan Gering [keys, synths, programming, production], Giuseppe Capolupo [drums], and Mason Nagy [bass]—have fashioned an ever-evolving signature style buttressed by layers of sonic hues. Such dynamic divergence defines the group’s eighth full-length offering, Color Decay [Solid State]. “It’s about contrast,” observes Mike. “We’ve really tried to create individualism within the songs and make them distinct. The title references the disintegration and discoloration we experience from daily struggles. Those feelings come with mental health, getting older, and dealing with it.”

For most of us, life is a series of human interactions; some good, some bad, some happy, some sad. But what would life be without those peripheral characters who plant themselves into our worlds through the sheer force of their presence? Whether we speak to them or not, those vibrant contrasts to the everyday tide of ordinary people are a magical part of the human experience. Oddballs and misfits, flamboyant instigators or low-key game changers, we all clock them on our own hectic journeys, and they make the day a little brighter. Everyone has their favourite people.

Following the runaway success of their first one-shot single in 2020, Favourite People reconvene for a full-length of blues-tinged cuts stemming from sessions at Selva Studios in Brooklyn. The project’s roots predate the studio, from scattered jams and sweaty nights in New York nightspots to impromptu recordings on cruise ships, but the flashpoint of inspiration that truly set the album in motion was the arrival of a blonde 1960s Fender Telecaster. From there, the motley crew of sharp-shooting string slingers and sticks men set about crafting paeans to those striking souls who make the world a more colourful place.

The emphasis here is on the kind of forward-facing, electrically charged mix you felt (whether you realised it or not) hearing early Sabbath or Priest for the first time. With their undeniable bias towards vintage soul, Favourite People are far from heavy metal, but the same lineage of blues and by extension jazz informs the music, while the tonal crunch of that 70s era guides the sound. Feasting on tasteful overdrive and leaning on the unmistakable flavour of tape for much of the recording, the deal was sealed on this purposeful exercise in vibe thanks to the near-mythical texture of Guy Davie’s EMI Nigeria console at Electric Mastering.

Across the album there are mellow shades and bursts of good-time get-down exuberance, but the lead singles capture the essence of the band in no uncertain terms.

‘Promise Of Nibbles’ brings the Favourite People MO into sharp relief with a low-slung, hard swinging blues confection full of overheating organ and duelling guitars in pursuit of Southern-stewed boogie (im)perfection.

‘We’ll Be Late To The Party’ turns up the tempo and dials in the fuzz, striking an anthemic note which lands somewhere between urgent highway escapism and euphoric communal revelation.

‘Mass and Mustiness’ leans in on the funk dimension of the group’s sound with the sweetest licks and chops on that fabled telecaster backed up by an acutely angled beat and the slinkiest of b-lines.

These are but three of the vibrant vignettes laid down by this quietly unassuming collective of heads down jammers, loose groovers and vintage sound freaks –heavy grooving instrumentals pulled from their own moments of pure musical magic and captured on disc for your listening, dancing, living, loving pleasure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SoHaSo continues their summer sampler series. Again, the Utrecht based record label brings you some forgotten beauties from the past. Mostly from the Lowlands this time. Perfect Virtue by British trio Shi Take is one of those gems. Tribal house rhythms from 30 years ago, with a bassline that makes you want to wiggle all the way to the center of the dance floor. SoHaSo label head honcho Nuno had been playing a demo of Tools for Fools by Dutch producer Sluwe Vos for years, when he found out the energetic rhythm track never got a proper release. Well, now it has. Flip over for some more forgotten Dutch house history. Jibaros is a project from dance veteran Eric Cycle. It has all the elements that made house music from the lowlands so good in those days: percussive beats, a decent baseline and good melodies sprinkled on top. It's a layercake of sweet stuff that just keeps on building. Very pricey on Discogs nowadays, but luckily Cycle still had the original DAT-tape lying around. Nozem is a bit of the odd one out. It's actually a project by a young dude from the south of Holland but it sounds like he stepped into a time machine which warped him back to the 90s. The vocals (in ancient Greek!) are from Sister of Iris. Closure track Tinkling Sensation by Delta (Alex Dijksterhuis) is more than 25 years old. With it's fast-paced rhythms this piano driven tune could well be something post-progressive from Scandinavia. But this is the real deal. Uplifting rave music from the days people were still carrying fluor sticks.

Eric Dolphy's final studio album is hailed as one of the finest examples of mid-'60s post bop. Its reputation is purely one of backwards significance. Dolphy, having recorded the album in February 1964, was in Europe less than six weeks later and his all-too-brief life ended less than two months after that. Though likely he never held a copy in his hands or heard any critical opinion of it, it marked his last flurry of original compositions and is considered his apex. It is fascinating to consider whether he would had moved past or away from the album in 1965, had he lived.

Though Dolphy should not be considered an avant-garde musician by the term's most common definitions, most interpretations of Out To Lunch have been done by players working squarely in that area. So it is with this album, the most ambitious in its recreation of the five-tune disc (with one original added to the final "Straight Up and Down, extending the piece to almost thirty minutes). All five compositions from the original quintet LP are revisited in the same order, the record sleeve even duplicates the old album jacket, down to the typeface and black-and-blue color scheme, although a photo taken by Daidō Moriyama inside Tokyo's massive (and massively busy) Shinjuku railway station replaces the Dolphy's album's enigmatic "Will Be Back" sign, whose clock hands indicated no conventional time of expected return.

Otomo Yoshihide first came to international prominence in the 1990s as the leader of the experimental rock group Ground Zero, and has since worked in a variety of contexts, ranging from free improvisation to noise, jazz, avant-garde and contemporary classical. The always surprising and sometimes confounding turntablist, sound artist, onkyo improviser and now avant jazzer heading up a 15-piece aggregation of Japanese and European experimentalists. Who better to grapple with Dolphy's legacy -- so idiosyncratic in its day and yet so influential to creative improvisers who followed -- than a musician with his own singular take on how sounds can be organized in the jazz realm over 40 years later and half a world away? In other words don't expect the conventional from Otomo any more than you would from Dolphy himself. That's not to say that recognizable themes ("Hat and Beard," "Out to Lunch," "Straight Up and Down") don't appear, or that individual players -- including Alfred Harth on bass clarinet bursting into the mix and leaping across the instrument's tonal range in a way that recalls the master himself -- don't carry forward echoes from the past in the spirit of a sincere and heartfelt homage.

However, a good deal of the time all bets are off; in addition to the usual brass, reeds, bass, and drums (and of course a bit of vibraphone, here played by Takara Kumiko in far less prominent role than that of Bobby Hutcherson) are such sonic paraphernalia as sine waves, contact mike, no-input mixing board, and, of course, "computer." (Otomo himself plays skronky electric guitar.) From composition to composition and even during episodes within compositions, the band takes radically different approaches. There are blasts of free jazz energy not too far removed from the Peter Brötzmann Tentet, an impression reinforced by the presence of spluttering wildman Mats Gustafsson on baritone sax. Not surprisingly and often in contrast with the Dolphy original, the music is dense and filled to overflowing with sounds -- sometimes due to fundamental reworkings in structure rather than just the larger size of the ensemble. The middle section of "Something Sweet, Something Tender" somewhat belies the original's title with elongated howls and cries from the horns over slo-mo bass, drums, and electronic noise poised somewhere between dirge and drone, and the sudden explosion of punk-ish rock energy in the following "Gazzelloni" is a startling contrast.

At times, the feeling is that of listening to the original Out To Lunch while a séance is going on to contact Dolphy's ghost, with supernatural sounds swirling around the stereo. The effect is disconcerting, as is the post-apocalyptic cloud hanging over the arrangements, but it makes the effort more than an unnecessary tribute album. Instead, Dolphy is transported into the 21st Century and allowed to romp through modern developments in music. An inspiring concept and an album that will stretch the boundaries of anyone who comes into contact with it.

Blue Marbled Vinyl

The final chapter in the RATS: INFEST series adds a left-field twist. Mike Parker is one of the most important historical Techno artists for us and has recently released two halftime EPs for Donato Dozzy & Neels Spazio Disponibile label which have been some of our favourite releases by another label in the last few years. Once we heard these EPs, we were on the hunt for some Mike Parker music on Samurai.

Mike Parker creates music live on an all-hardware setup and has done so since the mid-'90s. There is not really anyone that sounds like Mike and we're excited to have him on board at Samurai.

Mike has recalibrated his machines and created an all-new halftime sound specifically for this remix of 'Mainliner' and his upcoming EP for Samurai. Slightly more quirky and less dense than his usual approach, the machine pulses wind around a steadfast step. An unexpected, but perfect mood shift to re-imagine the Mainliner sinisterism.

Baby T makes a welcome return to the label following on from her debut EP Portra. This time the versatility of the Baby T sound is on display with a 140 Breakbeat killer re-sculpture of 'The Spell'. Dealing out euphoric vibe peaks with 4/4 punctuations and Reese/break combinations, this one is a guaranteed peaktime dancefloor weapon. We love Baby T!

The iconic US blues-rock guitarist Walter Trout is set to release his 30th
solo album, Ride on 19 August via Provogue/Mascot Label Group.
However fast or far a man travels, he can never truly outrun his past
On his new album he found himself eyeing the horizon and the green shoots of
his triumphant late career. There was a new record deal with Mascot/Provogue. A
move from California to Denmark with his beloved family. Even now, aged 70,
Trout was still writing fresh chapters of his life story.
The last time we saw Trout stepping out, he was on the road in support of 2020's
Ordinary Madness. The campaign ended in frustration, when Covid rendered live
work too dangerous, both for this liver- transplant survivor and his fans,
condemning Trout to an enforced downtime in Denmark that he hadn't known in a
half- century. "I've been at this since '69, when I started out in the New Jersey
bars," he reflects. "Suddenly, I'm sat on my ass for sixteen months, although I did
still practice guitar every day. My wife and manager Marie knew I needed to make
music. So her present to me for my 70th birthday was a brand-new record deal
she had negotiated. My producer, Eric Corne, scoped out a new studio in LA, and
my plan was to fly home to make a new album."
The result is Ride, providing an emotional release-valve – both for its creator and
his loyal listeners – perhaps this veteran artist can reconcile with his past, accept
his future and live in the present as it unfolds. "I think you can interpret this album
title a few different ways," he concludes. "I mean, this album is definitely a
musical ride and I certainly tried to cover a lot of ground. But, really, life is kind of
a ride too, isn't it? And I want to live mine to the fullest."

The iconic US blues-rock guitarist Walter Trout is set to release his 30th
solo album, Ride on 19 August via Provogue/Mascot Label Group.
However fast or far a man travels, he can never truly outrun his past
On his new album he found himself eyeing the horizon and the green shoots of
his triumphant late career. There was a new record deal with Mascot/Provogue. A
move from California to Denmark with his beloved family. Even now, aged 70,
Trout was still writing fresh chapters of his life story.
The last time we saw Trout stepping out, he was on the road in support of 2020's
Ordinary Madness. The campaign ended in frustration, when Covid rendered live
work too dangerous, both for this liver- transplant survivor and his fans,
condemning Trout to an enforced downtime in Denmark that he hadn't known in a
half- century. "I've been at this since '69, when I started out in the New Jersey
bars," he reflects. "Suddenly, I'm sat on my ass for sixteen months, although I did
still practice guitar every day. My wife and manager Marie knew I needed to make
music. So her present to me for my 70th birthday was a brand-new record deal
she had negotiated. My producer, Eric Corne, scoped out a new studio in LA, and
my plan was to fly home to make a new album."
The result is Ride, providing an emotional release-valve – both for its creator and
his loyal listeners – perhaps this veteran artist can reconcile with his past, accept
his future and live in the present as it unfolds. "I think you can interpret this album
title a few different ways," he concludes. "I mean, this album is definitely a
musical ride and I certainly tried to cover a lot of ground. But, really, life is kind of
a ride too, isn't it? And I want to live mine to the fullest."

Sometimes a band grows so exponentially from one record to the next, it’s almost jarring. Hell Fire has already established themselves as the preeminent masters of a new hybrid breed of Bay Area thrash and NWOBHM in just a few short years, but their fourth album Reckoning is the type of ascendance that truly sets a band apart.

Reckoning is their Master of Puppets, their Number of The Beast, their Defenders Of The Faith. From the very first notes of the album opening title track, you can feel a vital new energy and inspiration to their music. To say Hell Fire used the recent global downtime to dig within and fully refine their sound would be an understatement. It truly is a reckoning.

“This album is every aspect of our band amplified to its maximum potential,” says singer/guitarist Jake Nunn. “This is the record we've always wanted to make, and it feels like we're just getting started,” guitarist Tony Campos adds. “We wanted to push ourselves musically and capture some of our frustrations, anger, loneliness, and rage over being locked inside and dealing with life during a global pandemic in the days when no one really knew how to navigate,” says drummer Mike Smith.

With no touring on the horizon in 2020, the band hunkered down and recorded nearly a full album in preproduction home demos. “I set up a little studio in my garage to record guitar, bass, and vocal tracks,” Campos says. “While Mike bought an electronic drum set and we demoed every song so we were more prepared going into the studio.” Each of them found themselves practicing more on their own and ironing out every last detail and nuance before finally being able to once again play in a room together.

The band’s heightened professionalism also brings in guest bassist Matt Freeman (of Rancid and Operation Ivy fame) on the album after original bassist Herman Bandala departed the band amicably during the initial writing process. New bassist Kai Sun joined Hell Fire in Fall 2021. Reckoning was recorded and mixed at Atomic Studios in Oakland, CA with Chris Dugan.

The title track kicks things off with a slight nod to the layered melodies of acoustic and harmonized guitars of Metallica’s “Battery” before the band rips into its signature galloping guitar picks, soaring harmonies and blistering rhythms. It’s an anthem and a gauntlet thrown down with Nunn’s shimmering screams and guttural howls while dueling guitar solos and Smith’s relentless double bass drum shuffle bring home the point that Hell Fire is born anew. “Medieval Cowboys” hearkens to the epic attack of Iron Maiden’s Powerslave with glistening melodies and complexly interwoven musical shifts that showcase exactly how tight and precise the band has become. “Addicted To Violence” is blistering thrash and “Thrill Of The Chase” soars with rich harmonies while both songs lyrically reflect hard truths the band faced in isolation. The lush acoustic based ballad “A Dying Moon” shows the band effortlessly stretching out in new directions. “It Ends Tonight” is an epic anthem served as a mission statement to the band’s return wherein arpeggiated riffs, squealing pinch harmonics, group chant vocals and Smith’s octopus-armed beats will have legions raising their fists in the air in salute.

“It’s somehow the heaviest and most melodic work we’ve done, and I’m proud of the discipline it took,” Nunn says. “It’s a wild thing.”

Back in stock !

Canadian songwriter and producer Jeremy Haywood-Smith needed an escape from his state of mourning when he began working on Slingshot, his most recent LP as JayWood. After the loss of his mother in 2019, and a global standstill with multiple social crises throughout 2020, Haywood-Smith yearned for some forward momentum. "The idea of looking back to go forward became a really big thing for me _ hence the title, Slingshot." Feeling disconnected from his past and ancestry after the death of a parent, Haywood-Smith made a conscious effort to better understand his identity and unique Black experience living in the predominantly white province of Manitoba. Merging fantasy scenarios, personal anecdotes, and infectious pop and dance instrumentals, Slingshot is a self-portrait of JayWood at his surface and his depths. Musically, Slingshot reaches into sounds and styles Haywood-Smith has continued to explore throughout his catalog. "I think I made a really big deal to not pigeonhole myself," he explains. "Whatever is inspiring me at one point will work it's way into whatever I'm creating." Slingshot is an amalgamation of Haywood-Smith's many musical sensibilities, achieved with help from a crew of talented peers. Haywood-Smith wrote and performed a bulk of the track's instrumentations, but the LP has notable appearances from Canadian contemporaries Ami Cheon (on "Just Sayin") and Mckinley Dixon (on "Shine.") The album's penultimate track, "Thank You," was co-produced with Jacob Portrait of Unknown Mortal Orchestra. The song brings JayWood's sound full circle, offering something reminiscent of Haywood-Smith's earliest recordings, while flaunting that "The best is yet to come."

CHICAMACOMICO is a record about loss. Over a six-month span at the end of 2019/beginning of 2020, I lost my grandmother, my mother and watched as the world fell into a 2+ year pandemic that decimated businesses, relationships and dreams. This is a record about dealing with those losses. My hope is these songs serve a salve for anyone else experiencing loss. A reminder that you are not the only one that lost a friend this year, or a parent, or a loved one. There's a special kind of hope that comes from that realization. I am not alone. I wrote this record in the February 2020 on the northern coast of Hatteras Island in a small beach town called Rodanthe. In the summer, this area is an extremely popular vacation destination packed with tourists, but in the winter, it was a desolate ghost town. The perfect backdrop for the record I was trying to write. Over the course of two weeks these songs would take shape and come to life, and it quickly became obvious that the overall theme would be dark. During my stay I realized that the town used to be named Chicamacomico until the locals changed it in the name of ease and progress. In that moment, I knew I had the name of my record. We enlisted Brad Cook (Bon Iver, Nathaniel Ratliffe, Waxahatchee) to produce the record and traveled to Sonic Ranch, a world-renowned recording complex tucked in the middle of a 1,700-acre pecan orchard, in the Texas border town of Tornillo. Over the course of ten days, we watched these songs go from simple folk ruminations into fully formed band arrangements. In my sixteen-year career I have never been prouder of a set of songs, lyrically or stylistically. The songs have weight, but they aren’t weighed down. It’s a sad record, that makes you feel good. It's a culmination of nearly two decades of work. Chicamacomico sounds like nothing we've ever done yet it sits comfortably amongst the rest of our catalog. My records are chronological observations and I feel like this record perfectly represents the highs and lows of the last few years. Themes: Loss, Death, Darkness, Suicide, Divorce, Losing A Child, Losing A Parent, Losing A Spouse, Addiction, Recovery

Hailing from Columbus, Ohio and bringing some of the Midwestern techno energy that makes scenes in nearby Cleveland, Pittsburgh and Detroit so revered, Shut Off Notice means business from the get-go. The first release on the label is a debut appearance from Rarelife, who knows exactly how to elicit the kind of nerve-shredding tension that makes a deep-in-the-night dancefloor take off. 'ALONE/alone' is a taut, hypnotic workout, which gets remixed into a trippier reverb freakout by FBK. FBK also delivers a remix of 'Endo.' which gets into the realms of Rrose-flavoured psych-out gear, and then Rarelife seals the deal with the edge of the world ambience of 'Solvent Swamp'.

After three studio albums and over a decade deep into the music game, THE INTERRUPTERS deliver their new album, In The Wild. This 14-track opus is the real deal; it's a story of survival, a story of resilience, by a band being bold and rejecting the easy impulses of simply repeating what's worked before. Together during lockdown, Aimee Interrupter, partner and guitarist Kevin Bivona, and his younger twin brothers, Jesse (drums) and Justin (bass), decided to put idle hands to work. After building a home studio in their garage together, Kevin stepped up and took charge of production duties to become "the accountable one" this time around. The record took shape in an unforced and organic fashion, and the recording process was evidently a fun one, which is reflected in the sound of the album, gliding across a spectrum of breathless punk rock, doo-wop, gospel, dancehall, and the band's customary nods to the lineage of two-tone. It's further evidenced in the uplifting spirit and the glittering rollcall of guests (Tim Armstrong, Rhoda Dakar, Hepcat, The Skints) involved too. Thanks to the cocoon of the intimate environment they'd built and relaxed working practices, the results made for the most personal Interrupters album to date, as well as being the one all four feel most connected to. The follow-up to their 2018 breakthrough album, Fight The Good Fight, which spawned multiple singles including "She's Kerosene", with over 50 Million streams to date. This smash-hit sent the band to the top of the radio charts across the globe, playing live with everyone from Dropkick Murphys to Green Day. It was Spring 2020 as they were headed out on an 8-week Hella Mega stadium tour in support of Green Day, Weezer, and Fall Out Boy in the U.S., when like the rest of the world, the band's plans went kaput. The forced time at home gave them a period of much-needed rest, followed by an injection of creative energy that led the band to write over 80 songs, curate a live album and documentary film about their lives and their first trip to Japan. THE INTERRUPTERS will be back on the road in mainland Europe in 2023.

After three studio albums and over a decade deep into the music game, THE INTERRUPTERS deliver their new album, In The Wild. This 14-track opus is the real deal; it's a story of survival, a story of resilience, by a band being bold and rejecting the easy impulses of simply repeating what's worked before. Together during lockdown, Aimee Interrupter, partner and guitarist Kevin Bivona, and his younger twin brothers, Jesse (drums) and Justin (bass), decided to put idle hands to work. After building a home studio in their garage together, Kevin stepped up and took charge of production duties to become "the accountable one" this time around. The record took shape in an unforced and organic fashion, and the recording process was evidently a fun one, which is reflected in the sound of the album, gliding across a spectrum of breathless punk rock, doo-wop, gospel, dancehall, and the band's customary nods to the lineage of two-tone. It's further evidenced in the uplifting spirit and the glittering rollcall of guests (Tim Armstrong, Rhoda Dakar, Hepcat, The Skints) involved too. Thanks to the cocoon of the intimate environment they'd built and relaxed working practices, the results made for the most personal Interrupters album to date, as well as being the one all four feel most connected to. The follow-up to their 2018 breakthrough album, Fight The Good Fight, which spawned multiple singles including "She's Kerosene", with over 50 Million streams to date. This smash-hit sent the band to the top of the radio charts across the globe, playing live with everyone from Dropkick Murphys to Green Day. It was Spring 2020 as they were headed out on an 8-week Hella Mega stadium tour in support of Green Day, Weezer, and Fall Out Boy in the U.S., when like the rest of the world, the band's plans went kaput. The forced time at home gave them a period of much-needed rest, followed by an injection of creative energy that led the band to write over 80 songs, curate a live album and documentary film about their lives and their first trip to Japan. THE INTERRUPTERS will be back on the road in mainland Europe in 2023.

King Tubby and Producer Bunny ‘Striker’ Lee are intertwined in the birth of Dub Music. After discovering a mistake that made a ‘serious joke’ (more of which later...) they went on to release the first pressings of this new musical genre namely ‘Dub Music’. Tubby’s vast knowledge of electronics and Bunny’s vast catalogue of rhythms would lay the foundations of what today is taken as a standard... the Remix / Version cuts to an existing vocal tune.

Osbourne ‘King Tubby’ Ruddock was born in Kingston, Jamaica on 28th January 1941 and grew up in the High Holborn Street area of downtown Kingston. He studied electronics at Kingston’s National Technical College and also on two correspondence courses from the U.S.A... When he had qualified Tubby began repairing radios and other electrical appliances in a shack in the back yard of his mother’s home. His work in the early days included winding transformers and building amplifiers for Kingston’s Sound Systems. Tubby built his first Sound System in 1957 playing jazz and Rhythm & Blues at local weddings and birthday parties. His reputation as a man who knew and understood both electronics and music grew steadily and as the sixties drew to a close. Tubby purchased his own basic two track equipment. He installed this alongside his dub cutting machine, a homemade mixing console and his impressive collection of Jazz albums in the back bedroom of his home at 18 Dromilly Avenue which he christened his music room.

Tubby and Striker were at Treasure Isle Studio’s one day while Ruddy from Spanish Town was working with the engineer Byron Smith....

“Tubby and myself was talking when Ruddy was cutting some dub but Smithy (engineer) made a mistake through we were talking and forgot to put in the voice. It was two track recording in those days. Ruddy said ‘No Man! Make it stay! and so they cut the rhythm. When I went over to Ruddy’s that Saturday night a dance was in progress and when they played the vocal to the tune... then he said we’re going to play ‘Part Two’. They never called it ‘Version’..and then he played the rhythm track. The song was a catchy song and everybody started to sing along and the deejay started to toast so everything went down well. On Monday morning I went up and I said ‘Tubbs the mistake we made was a serious joke. It mash up Spanish Town! The people went wild. So you have to start to do that now ‘cause when the man put on the ‘Part Two’ everyone start singing this song. It played about twenty times. I said you try Tubbs!’...Well the next Saturday night now when Tubby strung up down the farm U Roy said he’s going to play ‘Part Two’ but Tubby did it different now. He started with the voice then dropped it out and let the rhythm run and then he brought in the voice in the middle and from there Tubby started to get really popular.’’
Bunny ‘Striker’ Lee

Dynamic Sounds upgraded to sixteen track recording in 1972 and Tubby purchased, again with the help of a deal brokered by Bunny Lee. The old four track equipment and the MCI console from their Studio B. The four tracks now gave him far wider scope to work with and he began to create a new musical form where the bass and drum parts were brought up while the faders allowed Tubby to ease the vocal and rhythm in and out of the mix. It was only a matter of time before Tubby’s dub plate experiments began to make it on to vinyl and the first ever long-playing King Tubby releases would feature a collection of his mixes to a selection of Strikers rhythms. So please sit back and enjoy this historic set of sounds, mixed by King Tubby and Mr Prince Phillip Smart and another set of scorcher Bunny Lee rhythms.

A Ride is the new dark alt-country concept album on the road by Phill Reynolds, to be released on June 17th, 2022 by Bronson Recordings; Like all the best concept albums, A Ride takes you on a journey. This one concerns the last three days of an American runaway’s life. Part road-trip, part engrossing mystery, part search for redemption, it’s the fictional tale of a troubled man whose past comes back to haunt him. Via eleven intimate, chronologically-sequenced songs, we travel with him. There are epiphanies and dream sequences, drunken dive-bar nights and chats with Jesus and Lucifer. As the narrator battles with his dark side, it is ultimately we, the listeners, who must weigh-up and flesh-out his story. According to its creator Phill Reynolds, AKA Italian alt-country singer-songwriter Silva Martino Cantele, the key to The Ride’s mystery might lie within its fifth song, A Clockwork Dream. “That’s where we discover that, because of some kind of courtroom trial, the narrator has lost someone who was very important to him”, Reynolds explains. “But we never find out her name or her relationship to the main character. Is she a blood relative? Is she his wife or someone else?”. The origins of A Ride go back to 2015. On tour in the US, Reynolds took in the shifting landscapes, the people he met and their stories. All of this fed into the album he recorded at the all-analogue TUP Studio in Brescia, near Milan. Reynolds played almost all of the instruments himself and co-produced A Ride with long-term collaborator Bruno Barcella. If A Clockwork Dream features a full band arrangement – “I think of it as the kind of thing Neil Young & Crazy Horse might do on a Sunday morning”, says Reynolds – other songs are sparer, more intimate. Banjo, Fender Rhodes, harmonica and glistening slide guitar all feature as Reynolds delivers haunting confessionals such as Run, Run Away and The Fault Is Mine, songs likely to appeal to fans of artists such as Damien Jurado, Strand Of Oaks or For Emma, Forever Ago-era Bon Iver. Intricate, rapid-fire fingerpicking on the first single This Isn’t Me and The Call of The Dark demonstrates Reynolds’ dexterity, while his voice is a rich, fully-lived in instrument seasoned with the salt of experience,and strengthened by the 120 or so gigs a year he used to do before COVID took his one-man show off the road. Long an inhabitant of picturesque Italian towns in the Vicenza province, Phill Reynolds was born in Marostica and currently lives in Zugliano. He was only five when The Beach Boys’ Barbara Ann worked its magic upon him via the radio. Later a fan of ‘90s Californian punk bands, Reynolds was writing and performing in his own post-hardcore bands by 13, but didn’t make it to the nearest big city, Milan, until he was 19. Bands still matter deeply to him. But his love for folk music has deepened over the last decade or so, hence his solo act alter-ego. Where did the name Phill Reynolds come from? “Everybody asks me this,” he smiles. “Especially in the UK. The truth is I needed an alternative name for a gig I was doing, and at the time I was in love with the music of Phil Ochs and Malvina Reynolds. Malvina Ochs didn’t sound too good to me, so I became Phill Reynolds, and I like that, because it sounds like a normal person”. The esteemed Italian label Bronson Recordings will release his fourth solo album A Ride on June 17th, 2022, on CD, vinyl and digital. A Ride is the most ambitious and fully-realised Phill Reynolds album to date. He was assisted by Stefano Pilia (lead guitar on Dive Bar Oblivion), IOSONOUNCANE (backing vocals, synth, bass and field recordings on World On Fire), and C+C=Maxigross (bass, drums and backing vocals on In The Dark). The record’s story is a dark one, but not one without hope. “Every end is a new beginning”, says Reynolds. “One of the main themes here is that life can be a sort of trap unless you recognise your own demons and try to deal with him. So we must be prepared and try to live well”.

Imperfect Stranger is the pseudonym of Glasgow based soundtrack composer and producer Kenny Inglis. “Everything Wrong is Right” is his debut solo album for Castles in Space.
Born in 1975, Kenny didn't listen to much music, unless it was the opening credits to a TV show or a film score that had caught his ear. "I loved the pre-title music on a lot of those 80's U.S. TV shows. From the family orientated stuff like The A-Team, to darker dramas such as The Equalizer. My mother would let me stay up to watch the opening sequence of the latter then send me to bed because the story would be too heavy for a kid. That left me with this hanging sense of ambiguity as to what would happen in that hour after the titles came up.”
Exposure to a work colleague’s tiny project studio in a kitchen cupboard was a lightbulb moment for him and the experience of utilising music technology as a way of writing and producing entire tracks stirred a wave of determination to chase a career in music using the opportunities that technology could offer. Kenny figured the best way to move forward was to start a small project studio and learn his craft as a recording engineer. "It was a bit of a shock to the system. I literally had no idea how to work any of the equipment. Kenny focused on learning as much about the craft as he could whilst winging his way through recording and mixing everyone from the likes of singer/songwriters to bands, to voiceovers artists and anything in between. "Eventually, I stopped writing the music I thought people would want to hear, and started writing the music I wanted to make. I didn't come from a music loving background, but I was always obsessed by the way music and film would interact - how music brings this atmosphere and tone to even the most mundane visual stuff. I wanted to capture that. I wanted to grab some of that ambiguity I felt from the TV shows of my childhood and make it into a project of some sort". That project was Spylab. A dark, downtempo project with a cinematic edge. The initial demo consisted of three tracks, with the melancholic 'This Utopia' leading the playlist.
"At the time you did demos on normal cassette tapes. I remember having this endless battle with the bias control to try and get the best sound I could on these little tapes. Ten went in the post one Monday morning, and the following Monday there were three offers from three different labels. Studio K7 were interested in a singles deal, as was Flying Rhino in London. But then there was an offer from a Chicago based label by the name of Guidance Recordings. They wanted an album, and were offering a $15,000 advance. It wasn't a difficult decision to make"
Writing and recording Spylab 'This Utopia' began in 1999. The album took a whole year to produce. The album was to catch the attention of Mary Anne Hobbs at Radio One. At the time Mary Anne was presenting The Breezeblock - a late Sunday night show with an eclectic playlist of alternative electronic music. Picking out the album's title track 'This Utopia', Mary Anne would go on to play it no less than 8 weeks in a row. A request for Spylab to DJ on the show was to follow. "I had never DJ'd before. I think I had a week to figure out how to do that and put a playlist together. I'm not entirely sure how I pulled that off.” In March 2001 the Spylab album was finally released to a hoard of excellent reviews. A North American live tour would follow. From the launch party in Los Angeles, to a sell out show at SXSW in Austin. "I then started a new project under the name Cinephile. It had some of the core elements of the Spylab sound but it was deeper, more cinematic.” Kenny received news that a track from the previous project Spylab had been requested by HBO for the first episode of a new TV drama called Six Feet Under. This was to become a major turning point in Kenny's career. The Spylab track 'Celluloid Hypnotic' dropped during a poignant party scene of the first Six Feet Under episode. Within a couple of days Kenny was getting requests for music from other music supervisors. "It was a chain reaction. The Six Feet Under sync was like the tip of an iceberg. One day I called CBS in America and they put me on to the CSI music supervisor and I managed to get on a call with him. I sent the Cinephile stuff out and within a few months I got this fax through from CBS - a quote request for one of the tracks for a potential use on CSI. It changed my life."
The tone and style of Kenny's music sat perfectly with the CSI score requirements. So much so he found himself part of a pool of incidental writers who worked on all three aspects of the franchise - CSI, CSI: NY, and CSI: Miami. This would continue until 2013, when the last of the series would come to an end.
"I was juggling a bunch of stuff for those ten years. Writing material for CSI, whilst releasing new Cinephile stuff and playing live. As Cinephile continued to gather pace, one of the tracks from Kenny's efforts on CSI was chosen for the Hollywood trailer for the Samuel L. Jackson film 'Lakeview Terrace'. Further trailers would follow, from Gangster Squad to Dead Man Down, Spike Lee's Undisputed Truth, to Fifty Shades Freed.
At the same time, Kenny picked up his first factual commissions in the UK, and this too would be the beginning of a regular run of fully scoring factuals and documentaries. By 2021, six of these had won BAFTAs. He also would find himself soundtracking adverts for the likes of Nike, Audi, and American AirlinesIn early 2020, Kenny made a return to focusing on his own music under the pseudonym Imperfect Stranger. A tweet from Colin Morrison from Castles In Space regarding a charity compilation album 'The Isolation Tapes' caught his eye. Kenny had made a start on his debut album as Imperfect Stranger and submitted the track 'Hymn To The Sun' (which would become the lead track on the album). Further discussions ensued, and the album found a home on CiS. "I had been doing TV and film stuff for almost ten years. It paid the bills and was as close to a 'real job' as I'd had, but I yearned to get back to writing for myself, so doing an album for Castles in Space was a joy.
“The music I write is like a diary. There's an authentic narrative to everything i do. I don't write tracks for the sake of writing. I write tracks to diarise and process the stuff that I've lived through, and the experiences that have come along with the passing years. That's what makes me tick. It's a very public and vulnerable way of expressing myself. If people want to know the real me, all they have to do is listen."

Nach den Split-EP´s (unter anderem mit Spider Crew oder den großartigen Day Drinker) erscheint das erste Album der italienischen Streetcore / Oi Spezialisten! Druckvolle Härte, rotzige Mittelfinger-Attitüde und eine perfekte Mischung aus rough´n tough Oi-Shoutern, fetten Gitarren und peitschenden Drums mit ein bisschen oldschool NYHC-Anleihen, vielen Versatzstücken des klassischen UK-Streetpunks....dabei aber immer mit fetten Chorals und Bombast-Refrains versetzt ist "Stand your Ground" ein richtig großartiges Debüt-Album geworden. Sei es der grandiose Opener "No Restraints", oder "the flame still burns" oder die United-Hymne "Streetcore Worldwide" (den auch Agnostic Front hätten schreiben können)…. die Italiener haben ihre Hausausgaben gemacht, singen ausschließlich in Englisch und geben einen Scheiss auf Befindlichkeiten in ihren Texten. "Back to the Wall" und "They will never get us" ist keine aufgesetzte Attitüde, dies ist "the real Deal"! Für Fans von Lion´s Law, Last Resort, Hatebreed oder Agnostic Front eine sichere Bank.

A sound that embraces different styles and different eras, but which has only one basic concept as a common denominator: spreading the “Black Power Sound”.

That’s the spirit of the double vinyl compilation of Soul Fingers, a legendary Black Music traveling party that has now become a cult in Italy, still religiously followed by dancers of all kinds and ages.

At Soul Fingers it is usual to listen and dance to a unique and tasty blend of soul, disco and funk, with rap and latin rhythms. There are no preconceptions other than that of putting songs to feel good and make people feel good.

The real deal is to share with the dancefloor a record that is magical, full of soul and that can elevate us from our state of human beings to become a single beating heart under the speakers of the sound system.

Canadian songwriter and producer Jeremy Haywood-Smith needed an escape from his state of mourning when he began working on Slingshot, his most recent LP as JayWood. After the loss of his mother in 2019, and a global standstill with multiple social crises throughout 2020, Haywood-Smith yearned for some forward momentum. "The idea of looking back to go forward became a really big thing for me _ hence the title, Slingshot." Feeling disconnected from his past and ancestry after the death of a parent, Haywood-Smith made a conscious effort to better understand his identity and unique Black experience living in the predominantly white province of Manitoba. Merging fantasy scenarios, personal anecdotes, and infectious pop and dance instrumentals, Slingshot is a self-portrait of JayWood at his surface and his depths. Musically, Slingshot reaches into sounds and styles Haywood-Smith has continued to explore throughout his catalog. "I think I made a really big deal to not pigeonhole myself," he explains. "Whatever is inspiring me at one point will work it's way into whatever I'm creating." Slingshot is an amalgamation of Haywood-Smith's many musical sensibilities, achieved with help from a crew of talented peers. Haywood-Smith wrote and performed a bulk of the track's instrumentations, but the LP has notable appearances from Canadian contemporaries Ami Cheon (on "Just Sayin") and Mckinley Dixon (on "Shine.") The album's penultimate track, "Thank You," was co-produced with Jacob Portrait of Unknown Mortal Orchestra. The song brings JayWood's sound full circle, offering something reminiscent of Haywood-Smith's earliest recordings, while flaunting that "The best is yet to come."

2022 Repress

Apichatpong Weerasethakul is recognised as one of the most original voices in contemporary cinema today. His seven feature films, short films and installations have won him widespread international recognition and numerous awards, including the Cannes Palme d'Or in 2010 with Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives.

This compilation album 'Metaphors' contains 14 soundworks carefully selected from his past cinema and other visual works since 2003, which includes Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives, Syndromes and a Century, Fever Room and more.

Apichatpong has regularly worked with the same sound designers since 2003 and has always given importance to the personality of on-location sounds giving his films a sense of continuity. In post-production, he's fascinated by the manipulation of these 'live' sounds in order to express 'reality'. This reality doesn't necessary represent the actual sound of the places, but more a representation of the world in layered memories. Similar to the way he treats images, Apichatpong sometimes calls attention to the physicality and the fragility of the audio (and its apparatus) and to the process of audio manipulation itself. In his cinema, Apichatpong prefers natural sound sources over music. Nevertheless, he often boldly incorporates popular songs that were persistent during the shooting. He doesn't shy away from using tunes that relate to his own personal memories. In this sense, Apichatpong values the spirit of authenticity much more than rigid manipulation of audio and weaves a complex and dreamlike soundscape in his cinematic repertoire.

Born in Bangkok, Apichatpong grew up in Khon Kaen in north-eastern Thailand. He began making films and video shorts in 1994 and completed his first feature in 2000. He has also mounted exhibitions and installations in many countries since 1998 and is now recognised as a major international visual artist. His art prizes include the Sharjah Biennial Prize (2013) and the prestigious Prince Claus Award (2016), the Netherlands. Lyrical and often fascinatingly mysterious, his film works are non-linear, dealing with memory and in subtle ways invoking personal politics and social issues.

Rock'n'Roll hits adapted and sung in Italiano to seduce an exotic and difficult music market. A tradition that saw many stars (Mick Jagger, Françoise Hardy...) test their pronounciation skills with swinging (but always very fun) results. Now its The Courettes' turn, to translate two of their newest songs for a special limited single 7'', released in time for their southern Europe tour and the Record Store Day 2022. Anzi, LE FAVOLOSE COURETTES, volevamo dire “the real deal” (Vive Le Rock, UK) “the real sound of now busting through your door” (Rolling Stone, USA)! “the world’s greatest two person rock n’ roll ensemble” (The Next Big Thing, UK) “Your new favourite band once you ve heard them!” (Louder Than War, UK) The Courettes. “A force to be reckoned with. Matching the garage rock ferocity of The Sonics to prime early 60s girl group, the band’s output is utterly feral in the most addictive possible way. Reminiscent of The Ronettes given a Ramones style overhaul, their evil charms arrive covered in blood-soaked glamour. Twanging guitar and raucous percussion, a wild head-long charge into the unknown.” (The Clash Magazine, UK) The Courettes is an explosive rock duo from Denmark and Brazil who found the perfect blend between garage rock, 60s Girl Group, Wall of Sound, surf music and doo wop. Like The Ronettes meet The Ramones at a wild party at Gold Star Studios echo chamber. Praised by the biggest music magazines around the world, in 2020 the band signed with legendary British label Damaged Goods, putting them on the same roster as top international rock icons like Buzzcocks, Manic Street Preaches, Atari Teenage Riot, New Bomb Turks, Amyl and the Sniffers, Billy Childish, Captain Sensible and many others. Their last and third album, “Back in Mono” was released in the Fall 2021 and is a truly milestone in the career. The album brings the band in top form, showing great songwriting skills and with broader nuances, influences and sound qualities to their garage rock recipe. Their last singles, “Want You! Like a Cigarette”, “Hop The Twig” and “R.I.N.G.O.” all got airplay at BBC 6 Radio in England and radio stations in Europe and the USA. “Back in Mono” got top reviews in the main music magazines like Mojo, Classic Rock and Shindig and was featured in countless Best Albums of 2021 lists: “Exuberant third release, a giddying rush of noise” (MOJO, UK) 4 out of 5 stars “Seems like the best record you’ve ever heard. A rock n’ roll sacrament from your new favourite band.” (Classic Rock Magazine, UK) 9 out 10 stars “Sensational good album!” (Ox Magazine, Germany) 9 out of 10 stars “Just keeps getting better and better” (Shindig!, UK) 4 out of 5 stars “Fantastic album” (Louder Than War, UK) 4,5 out of 5 stars “A complete riot” (The Arts Desk, UK) 4 out of 5 stars “14 new original tracks–all killer” (Add to want list, UK) “The whole album is one long highlight” (UK Rock n’ Roll) “Exciting combination of Wall of Sound and Fuzz” (El Periodico, Spain) 4 out of 5 “A collection of perfect songs, full-blown instant classic” (Triste Sunset, Italy)

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

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

Bear’s Den have today announced the release of their eagerly anticipated fourth studio album, Blue Hours.

Set for release on May 13th via Communion Records, the album sees the much-loved folk-rock duo – made up of Andrew Davie and Kevin Jones – once again team up with producer Ian Grimble on what is one of their most personal records to date.

Speaking about the new album, Davie says: “Blue Hours is a kind of imaginary space you get into at night, a place where you process difficult things or where you try to figure everything out.”

Themes on the album include both self-reflection and mental health after both struggled with the latter in recent years. “It’s the main over-arching theme with this record,” Davie explains. The group, who have worked with mental health charity CALM (Campaign Against Living Miserably) previously added: “It probably speaks to our struggles and hopefully many other people’s too. Men are not very good at talking. We’re not really taught how to – men have no idea how to talk about this stuff, certainly to each other.”

The pair describe the conceptual blue hours headspace that gives the new album its title as being “somewhere between a hotel, a mental health hospital, a bar that stays open later than anywhere else, a paradise, a dream, a nightmare and an endless sea of corridors and staircases leading you to rooms that represent memories – good, bad, happy or difficult.”

Despite the album’s challenging themes, it’s an album drenched in hope too. “We wanted this to be a celebration of music,” Jones continues. “I think that informed some of the bolder decision making on this record. At a time when music was so distant, it felt important to make an album that sounded hopeful, celebratory, ambitious and beautiful in spite of the heavy subject matter in some of the songs.” Jones adds: “It was almost like we needed to shout louder than before because we felt that there were more barriers between the audience and us. We needed something to transcend that.”

Following on from the album’s lead single, ‘All That You Are’, which was released late last year, the group have also given a further taster of what to expect from the new album with the release today of their bold, electronic-driven latest single, ‘Spiders’. Stream the new single here.

Speaking about the song, Davie says: “I started writing ‘Spiders’ around the time we left London. In my head, I thought moving would solve lots of problems, like everything will be better – almost like this Neverland vibe,” he laughs. “‘Spiders’ is a song dealing with the fact that this absolutely wasn’t the case. I had this vision in my head that I’d be at one with nature, that I’d be calmer – but all the things that were rattling around in my brain before were still there after the move. The song is about the fact you can’t run away from the things that are bothering you.”

Adding, “While making the record we wanted to get across a kind of simmering intensity with the song and the idea of someone trying to keep their shit together while wrestling with these darker thoughts and feelings. We wanted to get across a sense of bravery & triumph in saying, “sometimes I can’t pull myself out” of these difficult situations. To celebrate the difficult moments because we all have them. They are a universally shared experience even if it feels sometimes like they’re not and you’re the only one who feels them.”

Melodically, the song is a gentle Wurlitzer and guitar-driven track filled with hope thanks to the electronic elements added by long-term producer, Ian Grimble. “This song maybe sparked a lot of detail that ended up coming out on other songs on the album,” Davie says. “The sound of this felt exciting to us both,” Jones adds.

Bear’s Den have today announced the release of their eagerly anticipated fourth studio album, Blue Hours.

Set for release on May 13th via Communion Records, the album sees the much-loved folk-rock duo – made up of Andrew Davie and Kevin Jones – once again team up with producer Ian Grimble on what is one of their most personal records to date.

Speaking about the new album, Davie says: “Blue Hours is a kind of imaginary space you get into at night, a place where you process difficult things or where you try to figure everything out.”

Themes on the album include both self-reflection and mental health after both struggled with the latter in recent years. “It’s the main over-arching theme with this record,” Davie explains. The group, who have worked with mental health charity CALM (Campaign Against Living Miserably) previously added: “It probably speaks to our struggles and hopefully many other people’s too. Men are not very good at talking. We’re not really taught how to – men have no idea how to talk about this stuff, certainly to each other.”

The pair describe the conceptual blue hours headspace that gives the new album its title as being “somewhere between a hotel, a mental health hospital, a bar that stays open later than anywhere else, a paradise, a dream, a nightmare and an endless sea of corridors and staircases leading you to rooms that represent memories – good, bad, happy or difficult.”

Despite the album’s challenging themes, it’s an album drenched in hope too. “We wanted this to be a celebration of music,” Jones continues. “I think that informed some of the bolder decision making on this record. At a time when music was so distant, it felt important to make an album that sounded hopeful, celebratory, ambitious and beautiful in spite of the heavy subject matter in some of the songs.” Jones adds: “It was almost like we needed to shout louder than before because we felt that there were more barriers between the audience and us. We needed something to transcend that.”

Following on from the album’s lead single, ‘All That You Are’, which was released late last year, the group have also given a further taster of what to expect from the new album with the release today of their bold, electronic-driven latest single, ‘Spiders’. Stream the new single here.

Speaking about the song, Davie says: “I started writing ‘Spiders’ around the time we left London. In my head, I thought moving would solve lots of problems, like everything will be better – almost like this Neverland vibe,” he laughs. “‘Spiders’ is a song dealing with the fact that this absolutely wasn’t the case. I had this vision in my head that I’d be at one with nature, that I’d be calmer – but all the things that were rattling around in my brain before were still there after the move. The song is about the fact you can’t run away from the things that are bothering you.”

Adding, “While making the record we wanted to get across a kind of simmering intensity with the song and the idea of someone trying to keep their shit together while wrestling with these darker thoughts and feelings. We wanted to get across a sense of bravery & triumph in saying, “sometimes I can’t pull myself out” of these difficult situations. To celebrate the difficult moments because we all have them. They are a universally shared experience even if it feels sometimes like they’re not and you’re the only one who feels them.”

Melodically, the song is a gentle Wurlitzer and guitar-driven track filled with hope thanks to the electronic elements added by long-term producer, Ian Grimble. “This song maybe sparked a lot of detail that ended up coming out on other songs on the album,” Davie says. “The sound of this felt exciting to us both,” Jones adds.

‘Wax Limousine’ is the third solo album from London’s Wesley Gonzalez. Set for release on 18th March via Moshi Moshi Records, the record is the follow up to last year’s critically acclaimed ‘Appalling Human’ and finds the indie stalwart delivering his most personal album to date, via a collection of 12 irresistible pop songs. The announcement arrives alongside the title track, which received its first play from Marc Riley on 6Music and its accompanying video, the second to be revealed from the record following ‘Greater Expectations’, released earlier this year. In support of the release, Gonzalez heads out on tour this November, headlining Electrowerkz on 25th and supporting Young Knives across the country (full dates below).

With its truly eclectic range of musical influences drawing on Gonzalez’s ever developing sonic palette, the album’s uplifting sound juxtaposes its themes, documenting the end of a long-term relationship and the overwhelming experience of dealing with a family member’s cancer diagnosis and subsequent treatment. ‘Wax Limousine’ navigates these hurdles with a razor-sharp wit and often brutally perceptive self-awareness, nowhere more so than on the new single. Inspired by both 'Faithless' by Scritti Politti and Aretha Franklin, it is Gonzalez’s version of an 80’s gospel song and, as he explains, written at a crucial point over the last 12 months

“This was written right after the breakup and cancer diagnosis. It was that early stage of a breakup where you can't really understand what went wrong for you or for your ex. There was resentment for the extreme change I had suddenly found myself in, and I was asking what it really was I did wrong. The title Wax Limousine came from old phrases like "as useless as an ashtray on a motorbike". I was trying to express how useless I felt within every situation that had just arrived at my doorstep.”

Wesley Gonzalez first made a name for himself as the leader of Let's Wrestle, whose tuneful and eccentric punk earned critical accolades and a devoted audience with three albums, including 2011’s Steve Albini produced ‘Nursing Home’. Gonzalez wasted little time forging his own path and quickly assembled a live band for his solo work, expanding upon the guitar-driven music of his former band, with an interesting concoction of classic 70’s pop, soul, and indie rock. Gonzalez released his debut solo record ‘Excellent Musician’ in 2017, then the follow up ‘Appalling Human’ in June 2020 through Moshi Moshi Records.

An American soul vocal group that would go on to shape the sound of pop music much farther beyond their imaginations, The Ponderosa Twins Plus One featured two sets of identical teenage twins, Alfred and Alvin Pelham, and Keith and Kirk Gardner, along with Ricky Spicer. The group released a couple of singles and a lone album for Cleveland's Saru label in 1971, breaking up and disbanding as adolescence waned. A recent sample darling of both Kanye West and Tyler The Creator, "Bound" has revealed the Ponderosa Twins Plus One as the real Midwest kid soul deal. Numero is proud to present the first official American repressing of the original 1971 release, with fresh remasters from the original analog tapes, two previously unissued bonus tracks, and a replica tip on sleeve, making this an album you're bound to fall in love with.

Spain’s fastest-rising band, Belako are announcing a very specialedition of their 2020 album ‘Plastic Drama’. The new, deluxe double LP will be released on 8th April via BMG and includes exclusive remixes by the likes of Wolf Alice, The Vaccines, Hinds and Crystal Fighters.

Hailing from the small town of Mungia near Bilbao, Belako have been playing non-stop in Spain and beyond these past few years, building a dedicated fanbase in their native country, which has quickly been spilling out into other parts of Europe and the US.
2020’s ‘Plastic Drama’ was the band’s fourth record, but the first since signing a major international record deal, and certainly their most ambitious to date. Self-produced by the band, ‘Plastic Drama' searches for “the real meaning of things in a world that translates everything into assembly lines, manufacturing and the exploitation of living beings,” say the band. “It’s about the harsh reality our generation is facing and the only good use of new technology, which is the ability to spread the word and call for action. The title of the album has another message, as it also reminds us the first world issues we’ve come so keen to complain about. We can only hope for a more responsible human legacy”.

They were named best new band by Rolling Stone Magazine (ES) and ‘Plastic Drama’ picked up top UK support from the likes of 6 Music, Clash, DIY, Dork, The Line Of Best and NME who hailed the record as ‘a bold next step from a band who have never been afraid of the weird or the wonderful. Belako step up and earn their place among the major players of the scene’.

Relentless in their craft and a ferocious live act at their core, Belako were the first band to tour Europe in the summer of 2020, breathing new life into old forgotten Spanish cinema drive-ins across the country for their live shows. The ‘Belako Pandemic Tour’ documentary was premiered at the San Sebastian International Film Festival and will soon arrive on digital platforms.

Having supported the likes of DMA’s, QOTSA and Liam Gallagher at Finsbury Park, and played major international festivals such as Primavera, SXSW, Rock En Seine & Benicassim, Belako’s explosive live performances have excited crowds from small dive bars in their early days to huge international festivals. Their anything-can-happen stage attitude showcases the power, electricity and punk ethos of this exciting young band, which also lead to them being the first ever Spanish act to be booked for the main stage at Reading & Leeds Festival.

Fast forward to 2022, Belako reinvigorate ‘Plastic Drama’ with a 50-date world tour to be announced shortly, kickstarted with the release of their new deluxe edition album in April, featuring remixes by some of alternative music’s biggest names. The band will also celebrate the release with an album launch party on the rooftop of Madrid’s prestigious Riu Plaza on April 6th. Details for all UK dates this summer will be revealed in the coming weeks.

In March 2020, Tahiti 80 had a plan to start recording their new album in the studio. That plan, of course, along with everything else in the world, got derailed. But the five-piece group was resilient and resourceful. They quickly shifted to a socially distanced plan B that included file swapping and virtual sessions, all refereed by producer Julien Vignon. The result, due for release in March 2022, is the buoyant Here With You, a collection of eleven upbeat songs that unfold like a prescription for a post-pandemic panacea.

“When lockdown in France happened, we said, 'We're not going to stay at home not doing anything,'” says singer-guitarist Xavier Boyer. “And our new plan became a hopeful thing, waking up every morning and seeing what the other guys had worked on. It wasn't always easy, but this new method allowed a freer approach where we could really go all the way with an idea without being influenced by each other’s suggestions. It must've been overwhelming for Julien, who ended up selecting all our arrangements. But he stayed positive all the way through.”

To help stay inspired and focused during their time in isolation, the band created a mood board, with the centerpiece a photo of an early '90s rave in the UK.

Boyer says, “Whenever you see pictures from this era, people seem very innocent. There are no cell phones and everybody is in to what they are experiencing. We kept that picture in mind as a kind of mantra that would help everyone feel connected to this idea of people celebrating, gathering and just having fun. We were missing the connection with people, and thought it would be great if we could create music that would inspire that kind of emotion.”

Indeed, the songs on Here With You are brimming the feeling of communion that we've all been missing over the past two years. It's there in the catchy opener Lost in the Sound, which walks the walk with Chic guitar flicks, urban nightfall sparkles and an inviting chorus (“Your heart grooves like a thousand 808s on the right time”). It's there in the Jackson 5-style syncopated bounce of “Vintage Creem,” the lush, dreamy “Breakfast in L.A.” and the panoramic sweep of “UFO.” And it's there in the first single “Hot,” which matches an irresistible groove with a neon-lit, percolating arrangement that evokes the disco clubs of 1979.

What's remarkable is that though Tahiti 80 displays a clear affection for sounds of the past, from bubble gum to '70s soul, they never trade in mere pastiche. Their take is more a slightly warped and playful carnival mirror mash-up of classic pop styles, given depth through Boyer's hang-gliding, coolly emotive vocals and lyrics that often rub against the euphoric grain of the music.

“I like to think of songs as a three-minute drama,” says Boyer. “This concept of drama definitely adds different levels to our music. There's the melody, the lyrics, then the production that can maybe emphasize or counterbalance the interaction between the yin and yang in a song.

“There's a difference between the very upbeat, sunshine-y soft rock and the lyrics, even on our past albums,” he continues. “Not dark, but a little more melancholy, and also looking for some kind of motivation, talking to yourself. Like with a lot of Motown songs, you get that feeling where you body’s dancing while your mind’s reflecting, reminiscing.”

That alluring blend of happy-sad has been a signature part of the Tahiti 80 sound from the time Boyer and bassist Pedro Resende formed the group in 1993, as students at the University of Rouen. Taking their name from a souvenir t-shirt given to Boyer's father in 1980, the duo recruited guitarist Mederic Gontier in 1994, and with the addition of drummer Sylvain Marchand a year later, the lineup was complete. The foursome released a self-produced and self-financed EP, 20 Minutes, in 1996, which resulted a record deal with French label Atmospheriques in 1998. Their full-length debut Puzzle, produced with Ivy's Andy Chase and mixed by Tore Johansson, went gold and featured the international hit “Heartbeat” that established the band throughout Europe and Asia.

In the years since, Tahiti 80 – with the additions of Raphaël Léger on drums and Hadrien Grange on keys - has released eight acclaimed albums. The band has fused what MOJO called a “glorious entente of old and new technology” (including singles like “Yellow Butterfly,” “1000 Times,” “Sound Museum,” “Crush!” and “Big Day,” which was featured on a FIFA video game soundtrack), while collaborating with such producers and arrangers as Richard Swift, Tony Lash and Richard Anthony Hewson, who famously arranged The Beatles' “Long and Winding Road.” Boyer has also put out two solo albums, the first under the anagram Axe Riverboy and the second under his name. In 2019, the band released Fear of an Acoustic Planet, a stripped-down reimagining of some of their best-loved tracks from the previous twenty years. It served not only as a look back but a reminder of their formidable songwriting skills.

Boyer is definitely a student of the timeless three-minute pop song format pioneered by '60s artists like The Beatles and The Beach Boys. He says, “I see it as kind of a frame for a painting. Most of the songs on this album, I wrote a verse, pre-chorus and chorus. There aren't many middle eights. I wanted it to be very concise. I feel like people have less attention. There's so much music. It's too easy to switch off or skip to another track, so I want to hook the listener. The three-minute song is kind of an easy code to crack, but at the same time you have to figure out a new way to tell the stories that we've heard before.”

And the stories on Here With You are very much about the longing for connection. Of the album title, Boyer says, “In the world right now, that can mean a lot of different things. Like missing our fans, missing going to concerts. In a way, it can be a statement of what happened last year, and a wish of 'I want to be here with you again.' It's our ninth album. We've had some had some very open, conceptual titles like Puzzle, Activity Center. Sometimes they were more specific like Fosbury orWallpaper for the Soul. Here with You, seems more personal, more engaging in terms of relationships. When I suggested that title, everyone in the band said, 'Yeah, that's it.'”

Until Tahiti 80 can resume a full tour schedule, Boyer says he hopes the new record will make that personal connection. “If I see from the point of view as a music fan, sometimes I see albums I like as companions throughout my life. So if we can be a part of people's existence, even if it's a song that reminds them of the time they were driving with the windows open and it was sunny. Or a sad song that resonates with them after a breakup. That's what we're all looking for when we're making music. You do this very personal thing and you want it to touch as many people as possible.”

When we first heard from recent Kompakt signing Emma Kollmorgen, with 2021’s “You Are The”, she was hymning the complexity of romance: “Love is scary as fuck!”, she said. On her debut EP, “1243”, she’s built on that intensity and offered up a five-track suite of night-vision electronic pop, bristling with a stealthy sensuality. It’s a cinematic collection, building from the brooding “Escape”, through the drifting, tactile pulses of “Taciturn”, the gritty, bustling noises that run underneath the smoke-signal torch-song of “All The Wild Animals”, and the closing, tear-stained melancholy of “Home”. “You Are The” reappears here as well, settling in perfectly amongst new friends.

It’s a completely assured first EP from an artist who’s been slowly and steadily building her own sonic world. From her early days, when she busied herself by learning guitar and joining bands, Kollmorgen always had a vision of doing something “more independent”, to allow her to find her own sound and write her own songs. A brief creative alliance with the Berlin DJ duo Dole & Kom led to some recordings and live performances. All the while, Kollmorgen was carefully shaping her production and sound designing skills with Ableton Live, and exploring distinctive musical terrain in collaboration with co-producer and multi-instrumentalist Paul Seidel (The Ocean Collective, Fern, Nightmarer). She joined the Kompakt family after a recommendation by Patrice Baumel, who also remixed her debut single with typical flair.

On “1243”, though, Kollmorgen fully inhabits her songs, gifting each of them with a sweet, subtle sway, her vocal and lyrical openheartedness balancing the bluer hues of her production. Each song is confident and poised, Kollmorgen relying on cross-thatched patterns of texture as a web to support her melodies: “I like patterns,” she says, “they give me something to hold onto, something stable in an unstable world.” The songs feel as though they’re grappling with moments of revelation and experience in Kollmorgen’s world, which makes sense, given her approach to music: “I never had a diary,” she reflects, “so writing songs is my way of expressing and dealing with life.” On 1243, you’ll catch some glimpses of life lived, made sonorous through songs beautifully sung.

Als wir das erste Mal von Emma Kollmorgen hörten, nachdem sie sich KOMPAKT angeschlossen hatte, besang sie mit "You Are The" (2021) die Komplexität von Romantik: "Liebe ist verdammt beängstigend!". Auf ihrer Debüt-EP "1243" baut sie auf dieser Intensität auf und präsentiert uns eine fünf Tracks umfassende Suite von elektronischem Pop mit ausgeprägtem Nachtsicht-Faktor, die vor verborgener Sinnlichkeit nur so strotzt. Ein geradezu cineastischer Spannungsbogen, der sich vom grüblerischen "Escape" über die treibenden, taktilen Impulse von "Taciturn", die düsteren, umtriebigen Geräusche, die den Rauchzeichen sendenden torch song "All The Wild Animals" untermalen, und die abschließende, tränenreiche Melancholie von "Home" aufbaut. Auch "You Are The" taucht hier wieder auf und fügt sich perfekt in die neue Gesellschaft ein.

Eine überzeugende erste EP von einer Künstlerin, die sich langsam und stetig ihre eigene Klangwelt aufgebaut hat. Seit ihren Anfängen, als sie Gitarre lernte und in Bands spielte, hatte Kollmorgen immer die Vision, etwas "Unabhängiges" zu machen, um ihren eigenen Sound zu finden und ihre eigenen Songs zu schreiben. Eine kurze kreative Allianz mit dem Berliner DJ-Duo Dole & Kom führte zu einigen Aufnahmen und Live-Auftritten. Währenddessen feilte Kollmorgen an ihren Produktions- und Sounddesign-Skills und erkundete gemeinsam mit dem Co-Produzenten und Multi-Instrumentalisten Paul Seidel (The Ocean Collective, Fern, Nightmarer) ihr eigenes musikalisches Terrain. Zur KOMPAKT Label-Familie kam sie auf Empfehlung von Patrice Baumel, der auch ihre Debütsingle remixte.

Auf "1243" lebt Kollmorgen ihre Songs voll und ganz aus und verleiht jedem von ihnen einen süßen, subtilen Twist, der ihre stimmliche und textliche Offenheit mit den melancholischen Tönen der Musik in Balance hält. Voller Selbstbewusstsein und Ausgeglichenheit verlässt sie sich auf durcheinander laufende Texturen und Pattern, die ihre Melodik unterstützen: "Ich mag Pattern", sagt sie, "sie geben mir etwas, woran ich mich festhalten kann, etwas Stabiles in einer instabilen Welt."

Die Songs fühlen sich an, als würden sie sich mit realen Momenten der Offenbarung und mit Erfahrungen aus Kollmorgens Lebenswelt auseinandersetzen, was angesichts ihrer Herangehensweise an Musik durchaus Sinn ergibt: "Ich hatte nie ein Tagebuch", erzählt sie, "also ist das Schreiben von Songs meine Art, mich auszudrücken und mit dem Leben umzugehen." Auf "1243" gibt sie uns einige Einblicke in dieses gelebte Leben, das durch wunderschön gesungene Lieder zum Klingen gebracht wird.

The words legendary, seminal, and classic get thrown around at will these days, but Rudimentary Peni’s debut album is all of them. Recorded over two days at Southern Studios by John Loder and originally released in 1983 by CRASS off-shoot label Corpus Christi, “Death Church” showed a band moving away from the urgency of their two early 7”s and into their own realm. Creating a template that bands have been trying to replicate ever since, while ticking all the boxes to become a genre-defining album. Iconic artwork, a unique sound and their own lyrical universe. All merging seamlessly. Sonically the album is full of Nick Blinko’s extraordinary vocals and equally remarkable guitar, Grant Matthews’ big meandering driving basslines and Jon Greville's tight and relentless drum work which together made something intricate and hard hitting, with a sequence that makes the 21 songs on the album flow perfectly. Visually, the album is every outsider art lover’s wet dream. A six-panel poster sleeve with every inch covered in Nick Blinko’s claustrophobic black and white line drawings, while lyrically the songs deal with madness, religion, death, and questioning humankind from a dark poetic place rarely found in any art form. Remastered from the original master tapes by Arthur Rizk and housed in a replica poster sleeve, including the original insert, “Death Church” is back in print in LP, CD and cassette after nearly a decade of no official reissues.

The words legendary, seminal, and classic get thrown around at will these days, but Rudimentary Peni’s debut album is all of them. Recorded over two days at Southern Studios by John Loder and originally released in 1983 by CRASS off-shoot label Corpus Christi, “Death Church” showed a band moving away from the urgency of their two early 7”s and into their own realm. Creating a template that bands have been trying to replicate ever since, while ticking all the boxes to become a genre-defining album. Iconic artwork, a unique sound and their own lyrical universe. All merging seamlessly. Sonically the album is full of Nick Blinko’s extraordinary vocals and equally remarkable guitar, Grant Matthews’ big meandering driving basslines and Jon Greville's tight and relentless drum work which together made something intricate and hard hitting, with a sequence that makes the 21 songs on the album flow perfectly. Visually, the album is every outsider art lover’s wet dream. A six-panel poster sleeve with every inch covered in Nick Blinko’s claustrophobic black and white line drawings, while lyrically the songs deal with madness, religion, death, and questioning humankind from a dark poetic place rarely found in any art form. Remastered from the original master tapes by Arthur Rizk and housed in a replica poster sleeve, including the original insert, “Death Church” is back in print in LP, CD and cassette after nearly a decade of no official reissues.

For a number of years now, A Guy Called Gerald has largely made music only for himself. But this special EP is borne from Gerald’s unique and long-lasting friendship with Analog Room founders Mehdi Ansari, Siamak Amidi and Salar Ansari. They first met in 2013 when Siamak booked Gerald to play his Analog Room party in Dubai – a leading underground light in the UAE’s then emergent scene. Away from the glossy VIP hotels and expensive bottle service parties
typically associated with Dubai, Analog Room only deals with quality bookings of the caliber of Move D, Roman Flügel, Moritz Von Oswald and the likes. Gerald immediately fell in love with the party. Its strict music-first, no-nonsense policy appealed to him and he’s returned many times over the years.

By then, of course, A Guy Called Gerald’s musical legacy was already assured. The Manchester icon is best known for his 1988 hit single Voodoo Ray – the touchstone of his hometown’s dawning acid house scene. As well as being an early member of 808 State, Gerald embraced breakbeat and jungle, ran his own Juice Box Records label and worked with the likes of Columbia, Perlon, K7! and many other vital labels. His skills on everything from synths to keys, samplers to
drum machines stood him apart then – and still do today.

“This release is based on a real friendship,” Gerald explains. “I feel part of the Analog Room family. Back in the early days, that’s how it was. These days, it’s like, ‘Oh, you’re famous, let’s do something.’ I’m not interested in that. I’m not interested in being a celebrity or living that life. I’m the same as I was 30 years ago, all I care about is the music. With Mehdi, we have spent hours jamming in private in Dubai, we have partied together. We’ve vibed together for so long and he’s shown me new parts of the world I should be making and playing music in, away from the trendy scenes in other places. So this is an exclusive just for him.
I’m not looking at doing anything else with anyone, and the music is just about celebrating individuality rather than trying to fit in anywhere.”

When Iranian-born Mehdi decided to start Moozikeh Analog Room – which translates from Farsi as “the music of the Analog Room” – Gerald was one of the first artists he asked to release on the label. It might have taken some time for Britain’s Dirty Little Secret to materialize, but boy it’s been worth the wait.

Says Mehdi, “The magic comes through proper relationships and friendships.
That’s why Analog Room worked. It was a great room, an amazing sound system, with amazing artists doing their thing. Bookings were so on-point because we had agents around the world, on the dancefloors, spying up artists who were killing it,
and Gerald was one of them. He was a perfect fit from the first gig and our friendship grew from there. He’s always been very kind to me. We have this common language of music without any bullshit, and that is where this EP comes from.”

The EP is a mixture of different things. Some of it is unreleased material from the vaults revisited, some of it is brand new. It opens up with the devastating Old Skool – a writhing, physical track with naughty bass. The drums hark back to Gerald’s early days of making jungle but reimagined through a modern perspective. As the synths spray about the mix and the percussion bounces atop the jostling drums, muttered vocals draw you in deeper. Sugoi is an experimental
track that fuses ambient synth design with the spacious and eerie atmospheres of jungle. Nimble drums get you on your toes as the spangled synths twist and turn in all directions. It is a thrillingly original, impossible to define track.

Flash Fight is built on a captivating rhythm that sits in the area where house, techno and jungle intersect. It is warm and cavernous, physical yet elegant as it bounces on rubbery kicks and lithe synths roam in and out of earshot. Perfect for those sweaty, cozy back rooms, it’s another masterclass from Gerald. Closing out the EP is False Religion, a deep-rooted house track with elastic drums and
haunting, wispy pads. As a subtle acid bassline rises and falls way down below,
Gerald’s own mystic whispers leave listeners hypnotized.

Following on from Analog Room co-founder Salar Ansari’s debut release on the label, this EP is a statement of intent. More releases will follow from some of Analog Room’s most frequent international guests, but only when the time is right. Moozikeh Analog Room is a label of love, one that is focused on putting out the best possible music at all times rather than chasing hype.

A timely reminder of why A Guy Called Gerald is one of the world’s most enduring electronic artists.

Charismatic trombonist and pianist Malcolm Jiyane debut album as frontman is more than merely one individual’s breakthrough. Workshopped and recorded within two days in Johannesburg, UMDALI stretches the idea of what it means to improvise within the context of jazz.

Operating from the fringes of the South African jazz scene, the enigmatic yet charismatic trombonist and pianist Malcolm Jiyane delivers a major contribution to the canon -- one shaped around dedications to key figures in his personal and professional life. Several years ago, Jiyane was dealing with the death of a band member, the birth of a daughter and the passing of his beloved mentor Johnny Mekoa, founder of the Music Academy of Gauteng, which Jiyane attended from a young age. These life-altering events give shape to the music’s emotional register and its thematic concerns.

In Black Music, his book of essays and critiques, Amiri Baraka makes the point that jazz musicians, be it in the construction of solos or in other aspects of composition, always draw on the works of their contemporaries or elders. How much outsiders pick up on that is really dependent on how au fait they are with the music. In this album, Jiyane finds comfort in this well-trodden path. Two songs make for great examples. Umkhumbi kaMa, a jazzfunk track celebrating the creative force as inhabited by women, the motif to Herbie Hancock’s Ostinato (Suite for Angela) is a clear reference, connecting in one swift move, not only the musical traditions of the Black Atlantic but also the struggles and triumphs of women across space and time. On the same note, the free-form Solomon, Tsietsi & Khotso, conjured in the same jam session that yielded SPAZA’s UPRIZE!, appears here in a more fleshed out form as Senzo seNkosi; a tender dedication to Malcolm Jiyane Tree-O bass player Senzo Nxumalo.

Jiyane’s path to the realisation of his debut album as frontman is more than merely one individual’s breakthrough. Workshopped and recorded within two days in Johannesburg, UMDALI, not unlike Miles Davis’ landmark Kind of Blue, stretches our idea of what it means to improvise within the context of jazz.

Far Out Recordings presents a double bill of two monumental Brit funk classics. Keep In Touch and Stay were the first two 12” singles by the iconic Freeez, both self-funded passion projects of its founding member John Rocca, for his own Pink Rhythm imprint.

It all started over the counter at Derek’s Records on Petticoat Lane, London in the mid-70s. Rocca - at the time a budding teenage percussionist - met the prolific guitarist, composer, producer and all round brit funk fixer Jean-Paul “Bluey” Maunick (also the father of Far Out producer Daniel Maunick). Best known as the founding member of Light of the World, Incognito, and more recently Str4ta, Bluey’s involvement in the origins of Freeez are lesser known, but no less crucial. Bluey invited Rocca to a weekly jam session in an East London basement, where they would develop their craft, form their first band Freeez and develop the idea for ‘Keep In Touch’: “Back in the basement there was this one particular track we were playing that I really loved. It had a groove that I thought I could sell” Rocca reminisces.

Going against the advice of all the musicians involved, who thought he was mad and set to lose all his money, John decided to go full DIY, hire out a high end studio in the West End to record ‘Keep In Touch’ and release it as a private press, birthing his now famed Pink Rhythm label. Featuring Bluey on guitar, Peter Maas on bass, Paul Morgan on drums, Jason Wright on keyboards, and John Rocca on percussion, Keep In Touch was a surprise underground hit selling over 5000 copies and reaching #49 in the UK, leading Freeez into a record deal with Pye / Calibre.

Still giddy from the experience of having produced and pressed his first record at the age of just 19, John set out to do it all again with ‘Stay’ and ‘Hot Footing It’, enlisting Bluey & co once again. This time Rocca attempted to take things to the next level by adding vocals into the mix. Though this new arrangement initially backfired and cost John the deal with Pye / Calibre who weren’t feeling the slight change of vibe, original copies of the Stay 12” have become one of the most in demand from the brit funk canon.

These foundational DIY 12” singles paved the way for Freeez to become a household name in the history of British funk who went on to record hits like ‘Southern Freeze’ and ‘IOU’ as well as underground cult classics like ‘Melodies of Love’ and ‘India’ as Pink Rhythm, John Rocca’s later formation of Freeez named after his imprint.

Brand New Tom Moulton Exclusive mixes
It's June 2020 and I'm on a video call with Tom Moulton. We're in the middle of a worldwide pandemic but life for Tom Moulton hasn't particularly changed a great deal. He's effectively been in self-isolation for most of his life wedded to the two things he likes most in life, namely, music and cats.

I've known Tom for almost 50 years. The first 20 of those years were spent listening to Tom's mixes, and I listened to everything he did (including all the un-credited stuff) and quickly realised he was the master. I wore all those 70s Trammps albums out very quickly. The dynamic on all those mixes was really off the scale. I eventually met Tom when I did Salsoul Mastercuts in the early 90s. Little did I realise I'd be working with the guy forevermore.

Over the last 30 years I've been fortunate enough to work with him on a variety of projects and all of them were fantastic experiences. Tom's what I call an original creative and the whole art of mixing is a very emotional thing for him. It made for some long conversations. We fall out all the time but I'm always there for him and he's always there for me. It's one of those annoying Master-Servant relationships. Plus I always need access to his archives.

Anyway Tom got access to the Spring/Event vaults and then started working. This project started almost four years ago and, typically in this day and age, went through a number of mutations and delays. We're lucky it's finally here.

I still listen to everything that Tom does. These mixes bring out aspects of the songs that I never properly listened to before and, in a couple of cases, had never even heard. Thus is the art of the creative remixer.

It's been particularly poignant talking to Tom throughout this pandemic. Tom is really the last survivor of his type. A master-craftsman using 80 years of skill and knowledge and who is every bit as passionate today, surrounded by his cats and computers, as he was in the 60s, surrounded by a coterie of young and adoring music fans.

Blue light. No heat. A glacial wall of denser-than-dense sound. Dallas Texas’ FROZEN SOUL lives up to their name as the sound of death metal at its most cold and classic. Riff after slow, grinding riff, there’s no mistaking the themes of isolation and suffering that permeate the quintet’s massive sonic missives. “The feeling I’m getting from playing in FROZEN SOUL is powerful in a way I wasn’t getting from other bands I’ve played in before”, says frontman Chad Green. “The sound. The lyrics. Even the logo itself has a harshness to it that just feels powerful and cold. Add to that the depression of dealing with real life and the venomous people that can inhabit it and the vibe of the band just makes sense.”
FROZEN SOUL’s brand of straightforward, in-your-face death metal is a gasp of fresh air in a genre that’s stretched the very limits of technicality. Fully formed in 2018, the quintet has rapidly made a name for itself and churned the underground with a sound that evokes the old school sound of bands like Obituary, Mortician and Bolt Thrower. That reverence for death metal’s roots was apparent from Frozen Soul’s initial four-song Encased In Ice demo (which includes a cover of Mortician’s “Witch’s Coven”) that was released in early 2019 on California’s cave dwelling, knuckle dragging, Maggot Stomp Records.