quête:deep moments

Los Angeles based pianist, producer, and songwriter John Carroll Kirby traveled to Pietrasanta, Italy in the summer of 2018 on a self-imposed writing trip. During his stay he composed Tuscany, a two side-long solo piano exploration of this particular geographical envelope, a place where nature is shaped into form.

Kirby would cycle 12 kilometers each day to Cascata di Malbacco, a waterfall with jade pools and silver stone, and the inspiration for Side A of Tuscany. His own Cascata di Malbacco tumbles and shimmers along the piano as a gorgeous eighteen-minute-long improvised piece, some of it polished and some moments left raw.

On a ride to Sant’Anna, twenty-something kilometers away, Kirby took a wrong turn and got lost among the hills, where he encountered several monuments memorializing the victims of the Sant’Anna di Stazzema massacre. The dark history of an abandoned mill house served as the inspiration for the album’s haunting Side B, a eulogy for all of those forgotten by time.

Although Side A is inspired by the natural beauty of a waterfall, and Side B by the cruelty that people can inflict upon others, both pieces revolve around the same seven-note bassline. The idea Kirby is iterating on is the realization that darkness exists inside light, and vice versa; Tuscany is an inquiry into this duality and its consequences.

John Carroll Kirby has recently released records on Leaving Records, Outside Insight and Pinchy & Friends. In the studio and on the road, he’s produced and/or played with Connan Mockasin, Blood Orange, Sebastian Tellier, Shabazz Palaces and Solange.
He recently signed to Stones Throw Records.

Patience is a new outlet for exploring further beyond the break than usual. Inspired by the music perpetually on rotation at HQ – with E2-E4 representing the format’s high tide mark – each release will be one artist’s deep dive down one inspirational wormhole spread across two sides of vinyl, or two side-long sojourns making full use of a round 12” piece of plastic. Set and forget, zone out to tune in.

Clear Vinyl

For polymath artist Wesley Joseph, writing a song is like shooting a film. He sees in terms of scenes and colors, lighting the proper mood, drawing the right emotional arc_far beyond just getting a catchy melody down on tape. Music and filmmaking are Joseph's two great loves. Film came first_he started making DIY videos at age 12 to entertain himself and his friends growing up in a small UK community_but when he moved to London to study it, the energy he discovered in the city demanded to be captured in song, resulting in his 2021 debut ULTRAMARINE, a distinctly cinematic collection of avant-R&B and soulful future-pop shot through with moments of surprising aggression and an intriguingly complex postmillennial aura. Since collaborating with the likes of Jorja Smith and Loyle Carner, he returns with GLOW, eight more songs of love, loss, anxiety, and joy about coming of age at a time of unprecedented change. Showcasing his range across songwriting, performing, and production_not to mention his flawless transitions between singing and rapping, between character studies and raw emotional honesty_it's a stunningly beautiful work that makes it clear Joseph's on the path to becoming a worldchanging talent. As on previous projects, Joseph is providing his own visual accompaniments for GLOW, creative directing its artwork and directing its first video. "COLD SUMMER" finds Joseph singing from a supervillain's perspective over woozy film-score strings, and the concept bleeds over into its video accompaniment, a cryptic post-post-Tarantino gangster comedy shot in Kazakhstan. It's usually hyperbole to call an artist as young and new as Joseph "visionary," but it's undeniable that he has a vision, one that transcends old ideas of genre and medium, one that seems to get bigger and richer every time he steps into a studio or behind a camera. GLOW is one of the deepest and most satisfyingly cinematic listening experiences of the year_and Wesley Joseph is just getting started.

New York painter and musician exploratory industrialist Tor Lundvall initially envisioned his 14th album, Beautiful Illusions, as an entirely instrumental affair, "inspired by memories of sitting in a church or cathedral watching the shifting sunlight through stained glass." Although he ultimately chose to wreath the majority of the tracks with hushed, poetic vocals, his original muse still resonates. These are certainly songs of shadowplay and vaulted skies, the quiet grandeur of dusk deepening on the horizon. Lundvall characterizes the lyrical subject matter, too, in ways both specific and surreal, exploring "the doubts, the anxieties and even the bleak fantasies the mind spirals into during moments of isolation, separation and distance." Tricks of the eye, mind, and ear, magnified by silence and the looming long winter. Shivering pulses and muted bass lines tread the twilight while icicle synths and wiry guitar map the melody until the voice enters, narrating oblique moods of essence and absence, tenderness and truth. Glimpses of dark humor flicker in the wordplay but the greater sonic landscape is one of falling leaves and failing light, small gestures rendered as revelation, cloaked in reverb and spatial fog. Lundvall's mastery of nuance and negative space continues to heighten, whispered brushstrokes of the invisible and the unsaid, what lies beneath and what lies beyond: "Behind the shields and false fronts is usually a sadness. The heartbreaking reflections of what might have been."

Spatial & Co Vol. 2 may well be the best album in the Spatial & Co series. It's absolutely flawless. Again created by French disco lord and Arpadys maestro Sauveur Mallia for French library label Tele Music in 1979, it leans far more into the space disco sound than the clean cosmic funk of its predecessor. And it's all the more thrilling for it.

Wide-eyed opener "Discomax" is starts as pure piano-disco brilliance with a bassline to die for before heading off into wigged out territory, all acidic squelches and jaw-dropping percussive breakdowns. Perfection. "Space People" follows, an eerie, half-beatless sci-fi synth workout played out against a hauntingly metronomic pulse for the first half - proper slow-mo space disco business - before the beat kicks in, the electric guitar solo wails beautifully and the bassline that emerges at its conclusion rides in on some other shit.

Closing out the A-Side, the six minute long "Bass Power" is, unsurprisingly, a deep, low-end roller with head-nod drums, whizzing synths, blissed out ambient vibes and Mallia's otherworldly bass playing super high in the mix. It's white hot funk, make no mistake, and it sounds like a re-geared library version of Roxy Music. Yes, *that* good.

Side B is laced firstly by "Holidays Morning", an emotional disco-pop groover, all electric guitars, skipping drums and synthy bleeps with more than a few moments of pure driving funk.
One for the deep heads, longtime favourite "Electric Maneges" follows, a bleepy, haunted dancehall gem, uncut tropical balearic-funk from another dimension. The sophisticated digi-soul of "Loving Discovery" comes on like a weird, interplanetary Sade instrumental, all swelling synths, warm keys and syrupy guitar rhythms. Hearing is believing.

Arguably saving the best til last, the fierce, proto-techno of "Exotic Guide" closes out this extraordinary set. The intro genuinely sounds like Detroit would a good few years later - just wild - before it glides into a driving percussive funk break complete with both stabbing, insistent synths and those of a more winding, laconic variety. The one complaint? It's over far too soon. Remarkable.

Sauveur Mallia is a crucial figure in the history of electronic and dance music and a hugely underrated French library bass player and composer from the Arpadys / Voyage crew. This is just the beginning of Be With's Mallia - Tele Music reissue campaign!

The audio for Spatial & Co Vol. 2 has been remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring the punch of Sauveur's bass and those sick drums come through to the fullest. Pete Norman’s expert skills has made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the original and iconic sleeve has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

Swing Family's Music Force is dramatic mid-80s synth-funk. From the maverick mind of Sauveur Mallia, it's a thrilling and uniquely brilliant album from start to finish. It's undoubtedly known and revered for its unbelievable standout track, "Mission Africa". Those that know, know. And if you don't know, get to know. It's the reason this record has been hugely sought-after for the best part of two decades. Originally released on Tele Music in France in 1985 but now tear-inducingly rare, this is the definition of "a welcome reissue."

Swing Family is basically a supergroup of French Funk royalty. Led by French disco lord and Arpadys maestro Sauveur Mallia, they were augmented by trombonist Alex Perdigon from legendary French funk rock collective Godchild, trumpeter Kako Bessot from funky fusion group Synthesis and saxophonist Pierre Holassian, a member of Giant, Janko Nilovic's French jazz orchestra. So, about as heavyweight as it gets for funky French goodness. Mallia handles, of course, bass duties throughout, as well as utilising his arsenal of synths including his E-mu, Yamaha Dx7, Roland MSQ 700, Mini Moog and Oberheimm.

The maximalist disco fusion of "Exorcistor" is perhaps a bit too 80s French cheese for most tastes, so either linger on its singular style or head straight to the soundtracky typo-funk of "Greewich Boulevard". A deep, swaggering powerhouse, it comes on like mid-80s Chic jamming on the set of Beverly Hills Cop with Kashif. Yes, *that* good. It's followed by the vital "Music Force", a synthy, sleazy instrumental full of sax and flute and those 80s drum fills. Just the right side of acceptable.

OR! You can even choose to forget all the rest and just stick "Mission Africa" straight on. A rumbling, strutting, afro-cosmic low-profile banger. The slick drums hit hard, the synth strings warm things up, overlapping horns add swagger whilst electric guitar flourishes and a chanted refrain sit in the mix quite perfectly. A track that's almost impossible to describe and do justice to. You just need to hear it. Preferably as you saunter into your favourite after-hours club, after spotting all your friends at once, as you cut a swathe to the bubbling dance floor. A track quite like no other, it makes you sit up within its first bars and, to us at least, sound like something you'd have heard on a Print Thomas mix from the mid 00s. Basically, it's cosmo-galactic.

The B Side opens with "Musical Stars", an oh-so-80s funk-lite track which, at times, sounds like something Daft Punk may have left on the cutting room floor during their Discovery sessions. Another unimpeachable favourite of ours is the druggy brilliance of "Gentleman & Musician". You can almost hear the white powder through the speakers, as soaring, acidy synths, slick, heavy beats and the irresistible interplay of the primo horn players create a real sleazy wonder. "Film Action" follows, a galloping horn-heavy synth romp with moments of extreme bass breakdown brilliance before the drama-synths of "Episode Double" take things up another notch as it oscillates between gorgeous funky horns and urgent bleepy magic. Super tense, super funky and super stylish. Just ace. The elctro-tinged horn workout "Fatal Lady" closes things out majestically.

The audio for Music Force has been remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring the punch of Sauveur's bass and those sick drums come through to the fullest. Pete Norman’s expert skills has made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the original and iconic sleeve - complete with perky Liberty Belle - has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

The fifth transmission on BRUK comes from Chewlie, a breakthrough artist from Switzerland adept at sculpting tense, sharply defined atmospheres with eerie amounts of space and dreadful amounts of bass. Following up on her 2022 Creature LP for YUKU, this eight-track deep dive explores nervous hallways of dislocated rhythm with a UK soundsystem attitude and a subtle but striking approach to sound design.

In contrast with the strident melodic tones of Creature, Chewlie demonstrates her versatility as a sonic artist (alongside her established work as a graphic designer). Understated moodiness is the key here, resulting in powerful heads-down immersion heaters with stand-out moments to make the floor fall in line amidst meditative, patient pauses in between. In the field of leftfield dubwise club music, Chewlie's voice strikes out with purpose and poise, slotting into the firmament of BRUK as another natural misfit in the many-sided bassweight landscape.

PURPLE VINYL


A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Tape
"And we"re coming out of dreams / And we"re coming back to dreams" is the first thing you hear Bill say as you remake your acquaintance on YTILAER. Right out the gate, he"s standing in two places at once: meeting up with old friends behind the scenes and encountering them on the record, finding himself coming round the bend and then again as someone else on down the line. Like the character actor he played on Gold Record, writing stories about other people, telling jokes about everyone, and in singing them, becoming the songs. "You do what you"ve got to do / To see the picture" Bill"s got a full band sound going on this one, with him and Matt Kinsey on guitars, Emmett Kelly on bass and backing vocals, Sarah Ann Phillips on B3, piano and backing vocals and Jim White on drums. Jim and Matt sing on one song, too, and some other singers come in, too. Bill plays some synth here and there, and Carl Smith drifts in and out of the picture with his contra alto clarinet, as do Mike St. Clair and Derek Phelps on brass. Somehow in between them all, you might think you hear the distant sound of a steel guitar. And you might - but you might not, too. In this company, Bill continues his journey, tunneling underneath the weathered exterior of what seems to be and into the more nuanced life everything takes on in the dark. With Bill"s voice making the extraordinary leaps and bounds that measure the lives of the songs, the band follow him through passages that seem to invent themselves; other times playing with deeply soulful grooves and/or desperate intensity, as these moments come and go. There"s nothing they can"t do. "I wrote this song in five and forever / I"m writing it right now" Bill sings on "Natural Information" - an admission of the everyday alchemy he"s forever trafficking in. Time passes, triangulating the encounters that went into any one record with two out of any three others, all of it made flesh, new constitution, in our stereo speakers. If every album is its own life, it stands to reason that they"re invariably passing in the night. Cascading images flowing from the stream of consciousness. Turning like pages from the journal, unspeakably personal, then suddenly become tall tales, like a book pulled off the shelf, completely unbound. Headlines flow through. Mirror images, mirthful ones. Bill"s lyrics strain at the lines on the page, not content to separate the printing of the fact from the myth or be confined to ink on paper. They want to fly free. And they do. "I realize now that dreams are real" On YTILAER"s inner sleeve, alongside his lyrics, Bill celebrates the "exhilaration and dread" of cover artist Paul Ryan"s paintings. Paul"s another one met up with again down the road, his indelible cover imagery on Apocalypse and Dream River now an axis of meaning in the Callahanian world - and in the bright colors found in these new images, a parallel to Bill"s recognitions here. "A breath of exquisite air as we come up from drowning", sounds like the desired hope for those hearing the songs of YTILAER.

Tape

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Everything eventually turns to dust. Everyone knows this, but few want to acknowledge that our time on this mortal coil is fleeting, preferring to remain in stasis, in hopes that "the end" will pass them by. Chicago trio FACS (guitarist Brian Case, bassist Alianna Kalaba & drummer Noah Leger) have been perfecting their brand of intense, cathartic post-punk over the course of four ever-evolving albums, beginning with 2017's "Negative Houses" thru 2021's landmark "Present Tense', which saw the trio dig deep into the gaping maw of a black hole & pulling back whatever debris they could grasp onto. Their newest "Still Life In Decay" comes as an addendum to the last album - a "post-event review" if you will. "Still Life In Decay" starts with a squall of white noise before collapsing into the band already locked into "Constellation"s lumbering groove, with Case's guitar a ghostly presence, appearing & disappearing in washes of gauzy feedback throughout the track. FACS have never been more locked in as a unit, and "Still Life In Decay" is a decidedly more focused effort. The apocalyptic chaos that defined their previous album "Present Tense" is waved away in favor of an examination of events with cumbrous clarity. FACS are a heavy band, but they don't necessarily FEEL like one (see side two's "Still Life", where Case's fluttering, melodic guitar lines are buoyed by the insistent, underlying pulse of the bass & drums). As a rhythm section, Kalaba & Leger dance & twist around each other like a double helix, forming the DNA of what makes FACS special. Collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove as opposed to inside it, creating a lattice where Case weaves guitar lines like creeping vines, which makes the moments on "Still Life In Decay" where the band DOES lock in even more powerful. When the guitar punctures the lock-step swing of "When You Say", it hits like a hammer. Case utilizes his lyrics like a person suffering from anterograde amnesia; repeating phrases & holding onto old memories in a desperate attempt to avoid the slide into oblivion. Freeform poetic missives touching on themes of resignation, cynicism, class warfare, and a search for identity & meaning in a crumbling society; A primal desire to hold onto anything in a post-pandemic barrage of sensory overload. The album is a decidedly local affair; recorded once again at Chicago's famed Electrical Audio by renowned engineer Sanford Parker & mixed at his Hypercube Studio in Chicago's Ravenswood neighborhood & mastered by Matthew Barnhart at Chicago Mastering Service.

Everything eventually turns to dust. Everyone knows this, but few want to acknowledge that our time on this mortal coil is fleeting, preferring to remain in stasis, in hopes that "the end" will pass them by. Chicago trio FACS (guitarist Brian Case, bassist Alianna Kalaba & drummer Noah Leger) have been perfecting their brand of intense, cathartic post-punk over the course of four ever-evolving albums, beginning with 2017's "Negative Houses" thru 2021's landmark "Present Tense', which saw the trio dig deep into the gaping maw of a black hole & pulling back whatever debris they could grasp onto. Their newest "Still Life In Decay" comes as an addendum to the last album - a "post-event review" if you will. "Still Life In Decay" starts with a squall of white noise before collapsing into the band already locked into "Constellation"s lumbering groove, with Case's guitar a ghostly presence, appearing & disappearing in washes of gauzy feedback throughout the track. FACS have never been more locked in as a unit, and "Still Life In Decay" is a decidedly more focused effort. The apocalyptic chaos that defined their previous album "Present Tense" is waved away in favor of an examination of events with cumbrous clarity. FACS are a heavy band, but they don't necessarily FEEL like one (see side two's "Still Life", where Case's fluttering, melodic guitar lines are buoyed by the insistent, underlying pulse of the bass & drums). As a rhythm section, Kalaba & Leger dance & twist around each other like a double helix, forming the DNA of what makes FACS special. Collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove as opposed to inside it, creating a lattice where Case weaves guitar lines like creeping vines, which makes the moments on "Still Life In Decay" where the band DOES lock in even more powerful. When the guitar punctures the lock-step swing of "When You Say", it hits like a hammer. Case utilizes his lyrics like a person suffering from anterograde amnesia; repeating phrases & holding onto old memories in a desperate attempt to avoid the slide into oblivion. Freeform poetic missives touching on themes of resignation, cynicism, class warfare, and a search for identity & meaning in a crumbling society; A primal desire to hold onto anything in a post-pandemic barrage of sensory overload. The album is a decidedly local affair; recorded once again at Chicago's famed Electrical Audio by renowned engineer Sanford Parker & mixed at his Hypercube Studio in Chicago's Ravenswood neighborhood & mastered by Matthew Barnhart at Chicago Mastering Service.

Everything eventually turns to dust. Everyone knows this, but few want to acknowledge that our time on this mortal coil is fleeting, preferring to remain in stasis, in hopes that "the end" will pass them by. Chicago trio FACS (guitarist Brian Case, bassist Alianna Kalaba & drummer Noah Leger) have been perfecting their brand of intense, cathartic post-punk over the course of four ever-evolving albums, beginning with 2017's "Negative Houses" thru 2021's landmark "Present Tense', which saw the trio dig deep into the gaping maw of a black hole & pulling back whatever debris they could grasp onto. Their newest "Still Life In Decay" comes as an addendum to the last album - a "post-event review" if you will. "Still Life In Decay" starts with a squall of white noise before collapsing into the band already locked into "Constellation"s lumbering groove, with Case's guitar a ghostly presence, appearing & disappearing in washes of gauzy feedback throughout the track. FACS have never been more locked in as a unit, and "Still Life In Decay" is a decidedly more focused effort. The apocalyptic chaos that defined their previous album "Present Tense" is waved away in favor of an examination of events with cumbrous clarity. FACS are a heavy band, but they don't necessarily FEEL like one (see side two's "Still Life", where Case's fluttering, melodic guitar lines are buoyed by the insistent, underlying pulse of the bass & drums). As a rhythm section, Kalaba & Leger dance & twist around each other like a double helix, forming the DNA of what makes FACS special. Collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove as opposed to inside it, creating a lattice where Case weaves guitar lines like creeping vines, which makes the moments on "Still Life In Decay" where the band DOES lock in even more powerful. When the guitar punctures the lock-step swing of "When You Say", it hits like a hammer. Case utilizes his lyrics like a person suffering from anterograde amnesia; repeating phrases & holding onto old memories in a desperate attempt to avoid the slide into oblivion. Freeform poetic missives touching on themes of resignation, cynicism, class warfare, and a search for identity & meaning in a crumbling society; A primal desire to hold onto anything in a post-pandemic barrage of sensory overload. The album is a decidedly local affair; recorded once again at Chicago's famed Electrical Audio by renowned engineer Sanford Parker & mixed at his Hypercube Studio in Chicago's Ravenswood neighborhood & mastered by Matthew Barnhart at Chicago Mastering Service.

The sun sets over the ranch, a can of beer cracks, and an acoustic guitar
wrangles the day's thoughts and memories into a semblance of orderDuring moments like these, California-born and Nashville-based singer
and songwriter Emily Nenni chronicles her life through delicate songcraft
rife with honky-tonk spirit and spiked with just the right amount of soul
In possession of a deep understanding of music stoked by a lifelong passion and
sharp chops shaped by endless sets in smoky bars and sizzling doublewides, she
asserts herself as the consummate country storyteller on her full- length debut
album, On The Ranch.

Hot on the heels of last year’s Mermaids reissue retrospective, Hull’s deep listening house forerunners return: this time revisiting a pair of originals as well as previously unreleased versions.

It’s testament to the depth of feeling that Steve Cobby and David McSherry can conjure, that these tracks sound as potent and impactful as they did when they first came out - and not just for the dance. Throughout their 30+ years, the Yorkshire duo have produced ten albums amid many more collaborations, and transformed the remix into an artform, putting their fingerprints on everyone from Busta Rhymes to The Orb to Radiohead.

This EP collection finds them at the full scope of their powers: from disembodied mood music, to tripped-out dubby beats and raw house sessions for the club. The title track Subtle Body sounds like it drifted in through the window in the middle of a snowy night. Its layered chimes, looped delay feedback and floaty chords (played on a Wurlitzer Electronic Piano that Steve bought from Bill Nelson), mark it out as an enduring piece of ambient music, and a favorite for film-makers, able to soundtrack both haunted memories and afterparty comedowns with finesse. It precedes an unreleased instrumental version of Nightfall from Fila Brazillia’s 2002 album Jump Leads (named Mixmag’s chill album of the year), and as an instrumental, the chunky electro bass and mix of ephemeral tones and bird-like chirrups are brought clearly into focus. The attention to detail is what makes Fila Brazillia’s sound palette so rich, and Nightfall a certified smokers’ anthem.

On the B side, the tempo and temperature rises, and we’re treated to The Light Of Jesus, a favorite from Fila Brazillia’s 1994 debut LP Old Codes: New Chaos. Atop a bumping house groove, the song weaves together smooth organ pads and electrified guitar licks with syrupy bass and gospel-tinged exaltations from Charles Bukowski. The EP rounds out with Room ‘96, a live house jam from Hull’s Room nightclub, and a veritable time capsule back to the halcyon ‘90s rave days, when the lights were still on, everyone was home, and anything seemed possible.

The songs here on Subtle Body might be a window into a time long past, but they remain in the present: and as long as bodies seek pleasure, and dancers want to keep going til sunrise, Fila Brazillia will endure, and soundtrack those moments for us all to get lost in.

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Heels & Souls Recordings’ fifth reissue sees them reach across the Atlantic to Vancouver, pressing up Pilgrims Of The Mind’s 'What’s Your Shrine?' for the first time ever on vinyl, 25 years since its CD-only release on Map Music. A departure from the label’s previous releases, the LP is a beautiful smorgasbord of styles - progressive house, downtempo, ambient, tech house and trance all nestle together, a wiggling journey of sonic delight from the mind of Stéphane Novak.

Turn the dial back to ‘97 and Vancouver's underground had a distinctive buzz to its rumblings, an amalgamation of scenes and styles gave rise to a cohort of producers that were unconstrained by genre, offering up a heady mix of sounds to expand the mind. ‘Welcome To Lotus Land’ the key 1996 compilation on Robert Shea’s seminal Map Music, championed much of this output including two cuts from POTM. Stéphane then released his first and only full-length album, ‘What’s Your Shrine?’ on the same label the following year.

Picking out choice moments from an album as considered and complete as this is tough. Those horizontally inclined will be drawn to the ambient dwellings of ‘Sandcastle’ & ‘Following the Sofuto Kuriimo’, tracks like ‘Nothing Can Pull Us Apart’ and ‘L’Amour? Encore?!’ are perfectly suited to warming up limbs on the dancefloor, ‘My Baby Likes Rum’ and ‘Loosejaw’ prime for one in full swing. Yet to pick individual tracks misses the stunning sum of its parts that this 70+ minute cruise is, surely one of the finest albums from the American West Coast during its halcyon days of the ‘90s.

Digging deep in his vaults, Stéphane managed to uncover the original unmastered DATs that have been given a fresh mastering by Justin Drake at the Bakehouse Studios. This beautiful, double-disc gatefold comes complete with liner notes from Ciel, words from Stéphane himself, plus never-before-seen photography - the complete package this music always deserved.

The endlessly prolific and unpredictable Richard Youngs returns to Black Truffle with Modern Sorrow. As any Youngs fan knows, one of the great pleasures of following his career comes from not being able to predict what the next entry in his inexhaustible string of releases will bring: Unaccompanied voice? Country songs? Shakuhachi? Guitar pieces played with his feet? Shredding fuzz bass over the top of hyper-speed distorted drum machine beats? Continuing in the grand Youngs tradition of exploring new techniques, instrumentation and approaches while bringing to all of them his idiosyncratic touch, Modern Sorrow serves up two sides of twistedly elegiac, radically stark takes on contemporary pop production. The side-long title track is built from a piano sample, synthetic bass notes and organ swells, and an iterative blurt that seems to have wandered out of a 90s jungle track. Eventually joined by a shuffling drum machine, the track moves very slowly through a series of chords, each delayed long enough that its arrival comes as a major event. Over the top, Youngs’ heavily pitch-corrected voice is heard. The processing paints his signature wandering melodic improvisations with shades of contemporary R&B; at the same time, it cuts the natural swoops and glides of Youngs’ melodies into rapid microtonal trills, giving his voice a quavering, middle eastern feel. Unfolding languorously over more than 17 minutes, the piece’s final minutes make room for an extended drumless coda, returning to the stark palette of its opening moments. On the second side, the two parts of ‘Benevolence’ push this minimalism ever further, its first half consisting of nothing more than a remarkably slow drum machine hit, bass-heavy chords and pitch-corrected voice, here so heavily processed that it starts to resemble a shawn solo. In its second part, the harmonic foundation drops out from under the piece while two more voices join; at some moments the voices pause, leaving nothing more than isolated, metronomic drum hits. Though Youngs has explored the sound worlds associated with dance music and contemporary pop in previous work, here these elements are radically reduced, foregrounding a meditative bed of silence with a boldness equal to any more academically inclined contemporary composer. Embracing the accessible digital tools of contemporary music production just as at another moment he would pick up a kazoo, like much of Youngs’ work Modern Sorrow uses simple DIY tools to generous ends, producing formally radical music that remains both free from pretension and deeply moving.

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

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

New year, new energy, new music...

We’re all waiting for that tune to land in our lap, reach up and slap us simultaneously in the ears, feels, souls and feet. That big sonic blast of emotion and inspiration that sets the tone and gets us excited about a new season of shows.

Hard Times Records present ‘All I Need’, a powerful, slab of house music positivity that smacks of ‘first anthem of the year’ vibes and comes courtesy of one of house music’s biggest pioneers AND a certified UK House music institution that permanently changed the face of global club culture over 30 years ago... Steve ‘Silk’ Hurley and Hard Times.

Neither Hurley or Hard Times need any introductions, but both have histories that deserve so much more than this hype-fuelled promo blurb. Steve ‘Silk’ Hurley is a certified legend. As one of the pioneering House music artists to emerge from Chicago’s primordial 80s phenomenon and the first ever to score a UK number one Hit with ‘Jack Your Body’, the multiple Grammy nominated artist has been a powerful source of energy and inspiration ever since as one of the most consistent forefathers of this scene.

Hard Times have played an equally influential role and are arguably responsible for some of the most defining moments in uk House Music. One of the first club nights to import the US titans to UK dancefloors, the Yorkshire brand were instrumental in creating a blueprint in international DJ culture as they invited the biggest pioneers and legends to their events that began in the sleepy town of Mirfield, but eventually sprawled across the UK with line-ups that ranged from Todd Terry to Masters at Work to Deep Dish and every titan in between. A dominant force throughout the 90s, Hard Times wound down in the 2000s as its founder Steve Raine took a break from the industry to become a sheep farmer, which he still does to this day... Safe in the knowledge that he helped to create an ethos for uncompromising underground House Music that remains steadfast to this Day.

The Hard Times label originated back in 1994 And ran alongside the club night, boasting a small but elite catalogue. It’s about to thrive on a whole new level as Hard Times returns as a label with its first new material for over 20 years with ‘All I Need’.

Timeless yet forward-thinking, loaded to the brim with precision groovemanship, glazed with a strong Latin twist and sprinkled with the gorgeous vocals of Sara Garvey, who many will instantly recognise from her Nightmares On Wax collaborations, ‘All I Need’ is a pedigree house anthem-in-waiting. Universal in vibe and spirit, fully transcending trend or flavour-of-the-month fickleness, this taps into the source and has full potential to be the first big boundary-breaking house hit of 2023... 36 years after Steve ‘Silk’ Hurley topped the charts with ‘Jack Your Body’!

It comes complete with a rainbow of remixes from some equally eye-opening heavyweights: Alex Arnout, Eddie Leader, Terry Farley & Kevin Swain and DJ Skip (who runs S&S Records with ‘Hurley) all provide different perspectives on ‘All I Need’, giving it even more scope and depth to slap us simultaneously.

On his debut LP 'Impromptu', Julian Klaas presents a stunning work of sonic ambivalence inspired by the beauty and potential of the Wurlitzer piano. "I didn't attempt to pursue grand feelings like ultimate happiness or deep sadness, I'm much more fascinated in the in-between: the moments you might not otherwise write down, and that you might have forgotten if you hadn't recorded them." With 'Impromptu' Klaas has found a way to honour these moments, revealing the depth and richness that underpins the present.

Balearic believers rejoice! Japanese tropical-fusioneers Coastlines are back with the worldwide vinyl release of Coastlines 2. The follow-up to their classic debut, this is the sound of Coastlines's global influences. If the dedication to intricate sonic details is particularly Japanese, the overarching feel captures the sprawling grandeur of the international balearic community. As they put it, Coastlines 2 presents "a more precise and beautifully polished magic hour." If that isn't Balearic, we don't know what is.

Takumi Kaneko and Masanori Ikeda don’t radically alter their sumptuous template with this second LP; and we wouldn't want them to. Yet with a more focused flow from first track to last, both Coastlines and Be With feel this is an even stronger album than their first. One thing that hasn't changed is the use of instrumentals instead of words to express their themes; namely, "the emotional expression of being soaked."

Opener "Tenderly" is appropriately titled, a gentle Latin shuffle easing you back into the Coastlines sound. An organ-heavy synthy exotica that's in step with Lovelock's contemporaneous "Washington Park". Their über-horizontal take on Hawkshaw & Bennett's "Mile High Swinger" (from Synthesiser And Percussion, reissued by Be With!) evokes cocktails-by-the-pool as the sun slowly sets. The blunted deep jazz-funk swing of "Alicia" is a rearranged reimagining of the Gabor Szabo song from his classic Jazz Raga LP. This here sounds like an outtake from The Chronic.

As the sun goes down, "Combustione Lenta" soundtracks the relaxing slow burn of an idyllic bonfire on an isolated beach. Displaying a beautiful new side of Coastlines, we're treated to Moments In Love vibes and melancholic guitar arcs. The piano-laden early morning wonder of "Night Cruise" started life as a completely different song, but the duo found a particularly good loop from the initial sketch and reconstructed it into this sophisticated 80s instrumental soul groove. "Waves And Rays" is all undulating acid waves and lighthouse light. A chopped and screwed steel drum G-Funk with soaring synths and nods toward the squelchy machine soul of Mtume and Jam & Lewis. Yes, *that* good.

The bouncy futureboogie cosmic chug of "Sky Island" represents the beginning of the sunrise, casting images of 80s Japanese fusion and definitely one to play out early doors to get the crowd stepping. "Area Code 868" is the strutting staccato sound of Joe Sample waking up in the Caribbean to craft his piano funk drenched in sunshine. Accordingly, the tentative, naive melodies of "Sand Steps" represent that vivid feeling first thing in the morning, as you step on to the sandy beach in the sunshine and take a deep breath. The world is yours.

The emotional, organ-piano-steel drum-driven "Song For My Mother" is a slo-mo show of sincere gratitude to all the great mothers. "Yasmin's Theme" is Coastlines's Brazilian homage, recalling for them that early summer feeling. It's propelled laconically by the carnival beat of batucada`s big bass surdo drum and complimented by sweeps of warm keys and radiant vocal harmonies. Blissful beatless closer "Asafuji" conjures a scene from a wonderful morning spent with the people of Shizuoka, the symbolic mountain of Japan, Mt Fuji and its inhabitants. It sounds like Dâm-FunK jamming with Sabres Of Paradise.

Coastlines 2 was painstakingly crafted, across the pandemic, at Masanori's rented place in Tokyo and then brought back to his home studio and worked on slowly and repeatedly. With limited time to see each other, the duo became more united in their "consciousness with natural progress."

Mastered by Simon Francis and cut by Cicely Balston at Air Studios, this magnificent double LP has been pressed by the good people at Record Industry.

The incongruous, yet glorious, creative partnership between Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood was well underway when the two singular artists reunited to record 1972’s Nancy & Lee Again, a follow-up to their bestselling duet debut, Nancy & Lee. Nancy, the eldest daughter of Frank Sinatra, had been working with the Oklahoma-born songwriter since 1965, when she topped the pop charts with “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’.” Over the next five years, the two artists forged a prolific relationship in the studio, with Hazlewood writing and producing many of Nancy’s solo hits. Soon, the duo found success with a series of duets, including “Sand,” “Summer Wine,” and “Some Velvet Morning” – all of which appeared on their highly-influential 1968 debut.

Not long after the critical acclaim and chart success of Nancy & Lee died down, however, Hazlewood unexpectedly relocated to Sweden, leaving his musical partner in the proverbial dust. America, meanwhile, was in the midst of a cultural shift, as the Vietnam War waged on. By the turn of the decade, the musical landscape had changed significantly. “Trivial music and not profound music became unimportant,” recalls Nancy, speaking to Hunter Lea. “It was a tough time.” And yet, despite the circumstances, the stars somehow aligned for the duo to record some of their most magnificent music together.

Returning to Los Angeles for the project, Hazlewood – who reprised his role as producer – chose to take a new direction with the duo’s sophomore album. Nancy recalls, “It was more dramatic; it was more fun to do, more challenging to do…. It was more grandiose.” For the lush, orchestral arrangements, they collaborated with Larry Muhoberac (an original member of Elvis Presley’s TCB band, whose early ‘70s credits also included Barbra Streisand, Neil Diamond, and Lalo Schifrin) and Clark Gassman, who had worked on Hazlewood’s 1970 LP, Cowboy in Sweden. Backing vocals from brothers John and Tom Bahler, who remain two of the most recorded singers in history, added additional texture to several songs.

The big sound that Nancy describes above is exemplified in the album’s cinematic opener, “Arkansas Coal (Suite).” Clocking in at nearly six minutes long, the dynamic overture tells the tale of an ill-fated coal miner (sung by Hazlewood), while Nancy adjusts her vocals to sing as both the miner’s daughter and his wife. Hazlewood’s knack for vivid, nuanced storytelling shines throughout Nancy & Lee Again, particularly in “Paris Summer,” which details the conflict that a married woman faces, as she engages in a passionate affair. Another highlight is the country-inspired hit, “Did You Ever,” which was released as the album’s lead single. After it landed at No.2 on the U.K. pop charts, the song served as an alternate title track in several countries, including LP pressings in the U.K., Germany, and Canada.

One of the most emotionally-charged moments on Nancy & Lee Again is a cover of Dolly Parton’s “Down From Dover.” The heartbreaking tune tells the tale of a pregnant teenager, who has been abandoned by her lover and her family and ultimately gives birth to a stillborn baby. While Parton’s 1970 version was sung from the teenager’s point of view, Hazlewood and Sinatra transformed the country song into a duet. Hazlewood, who offers the man’s side of the story, sings in a notably deeper octave than his signature baritone.

Another poignant selection is “Congratulations,” which describes a soldier coming home from Vietnam. “His face has grown old and his eyes have grown cold/And they tell you of where he has been/Congratulations, you sure made a man out of him,” Hazlewood sings, pointedly. Nancy, who performs as the vet’s wife, argues that the song had a deeper meaning for her duet partner. “Lee started out a hawk, he was an army guy, so he was all for the war in the beginning. We didn’t talk about it, but at some point, he changed radically. ‘Congratulations’ was almost like an apology from him. I don’t want to put words in his mouth, but it was as though he was saying ‘I’m really sorry.’”

The song “Friendship Train” could also be interpreted as an apology of sorts – this time to Nancy. “You’ve been hurt and I’ve been hurt/Now we’re living pain,” the tune opens. When Hazlewood moved to Sweden without telling his longtime musical partner, Sinatra was understandably upset. “I felt pretty betrayed. I mean, who does that? Who just up and disappears like that? I’ll never understand it,” she reveals. But the uplifting duet – a slice of ‘70s pop perfection – offers reaffirming words of love between friends. “Lee felt things very deeply and tended to express his feelings in song instead of in real life,” explains Nancy.

The 10-track album closes with the stripped-down “Got It Together.” Backed by an acoustic guitar, the song is equal parts playful and candid, as the duo has an impromptu, spoken-word conversation about their lives. “I wish that we’d quit getting so old,” laments Nancy, who later shares her wish to have children (she would do so in the next few years). Hazlewood, meanwhile, attempts to remedy his past wrongdoings – this time asking his partner, “Can I go back to Sweden?” With that, Nancy gives her blessing.

This definitive reissue of Nancy & Lee Again also includes two bonus tracks. Both are stylistic departures for the duo – but fit right in with the psychedelic pop of the era. The first one, “Think I’m Coming Down,” is a harmony-filled reflection on a toxic relationship. “I think that was one of [Lee’s] drug things. I don’t mean that he used drugs; I mean that he was trying to be part of that culture. Trying to be hip,” explains Nancy, who delivers an emotive vocal performance on the solo track. Also included is “Machine Gun Kelly,” penned by a staple of the 70s singer-songwriter movement, Danny Kortchmar (James Taylor, Carole King, Linda Ronstadt). Recorded several months after the release of the album, the song found Nancy reuniting with Billy Strange, who arranged many of her solo albums, as well as Nancy & Lee. Sinatra and Hazlewood first performed “Machine Gun Kelly” during their residency at Las Vegas’ Riviera Hotel in February 1972 (later released as a concert documentary on Swedish television). While the recording has long remained a career favorite of Nancy’s, it would be decades before it was officially released.

Nancy & Lee Again remains a creative high point in the careers of Sinatra and Hazlewood and, upon its release, garnered rave reviews from Billboard, Record World, and Cash Box, among others. Yet, Nancy & Lee Again never received the spotlight it so utterly deserved. “We didn’t have label support at all in those days,” recalls Nancy. “Without the strength of a label, records die. We were old. We were old-fashioned. We were just not what was happening. It’s a very ageist kind of business.” Nevertheless, she adds, “I think it’s a very good album. I think it’s timeless.” Now, after years of being a sought-after rarity, this gem in the Sinatra-Hazlewood canon can finally get its due.

Five decades later, Nancy’s legacy only continues to grow, as new generations discover her impressive catalog (which boasts nearly 20 studio albums – her duets with Hazlewood among them – and dozens of charting singles, including the theme song to the 1967 James Bond film, You Only Live Twice). In 2020, Sinatra was recognized by her peers when “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’” was inducted into the GRAMMY® Hall of Fame. That same year, Sinatra partnered with Light in the Attic for Nancy Sinatra: Start Walkin’ 1965-1976, a definitive survey of her most prolific period. LITA has also reissued Sinatra’s classic debut, Boots, and her iconic, 1968 album with Lee Hazlewood, Nancy & Lee. The label looks forward to celebrating Nancy over the coming years with a variety of special releases, exclusive merchandise, and more.

The incongruous, yet glorious, creative partnership between Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood was well underway when the two singular artists reunited to record 1972’s Nancy & Lee Again, a follow-up to their bestselling duet debut, Nancy & Lee. Nancy, the eldest daughter of Frank Sinatra, had been working with the Oklahoma-born songwriter since 1965, when she topped the pop charts with “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’.” Over the next five years, the two artists forged a prolific relationship in the studio, with Hazlewood writing and producing many of Nancy’s solo hits. Soon, the duo found success with a series of duets, including “Sand,” “Summer Wine,” and “Some Velvet Morning” – all of which appeared on their highly-influential 1968 debut.

Not long after the critical acclaim and chart success of Nancy & Lee died down, however, Hazlewood unexpectedly relocated to Sweden, leaving his musical partner in the proverbial dust. America, meanwhile, was in the midst of a cultural shift, as the Vietnam War waged on. By the turn of the decade, the musical landscape had changed significantly. “Trivial music and not profound music became unimportant,” recalls Nancy, speaking to Hunter Lea. “It was a tough time.” And yet, despite the circumstances, the stars somehow aligned for the duo to record some of their most magnificent music together.

Returning to Los Angeles for the project, Hazlewood – who reprised his role as producer – chose to take a new direction with the duo’s sophomore album. Nancy recalls, “It was more dramatic; it was more fun to do, more challenging to do…. It was more grandiose.” For the lush, orchestral arrangements, they collaborated with Larry Muhoberac (an original member of Elvis Presley’s TCB band, whose early ‘70s credits also included Barbra Streisand, Neil Diamond, and Lalo Schifrin) and Clark Gassman, who had worked on Hazlewood’s 1970 LP, Cowboy in Sweden. Backing vocals from brothers John and Tom Bahler, who remain two of the most recorded singers in history, added additional texture to several songs.

The big sound that Nancy describes above is exemplified in the album’s cinematic opener, “Arkansas Coal (Suite).” Clocking in at nearly six minutes long, the dynamic overture tells the tale of an ill-fated coal miner (sung by Hazlewood), while Nancy adjusts her vocals to sing as both the miner’s daughter and his wife. Hazlewood’s knack for vivid, nuanced storytelling shines throughout Nancy & Lee Again, particularly in “Paris Summer,” which details the conflict that a married woman faces, as she engages in a passionate affair. Another highlight is the country-inspired hit, “Did You Ever,” which was released as the album’s lead single. After it landed at No.2 on the U.K. pop charts, the song served as an alternate title track in several countries, including LP pressings in the U.K., Germany, and Canada.

One of the most emotionally-charged moments on Nancy & Lee Again is a cover of Dolly Parton’s “Down From Dover.” The heartbreaking tune tells the tale of a pregnant teenager, who has been abandoned by her lover and her family and ultimately gives birth to a stillborn baby. While Parton’s 1970 version was sung from the teenager’s point of view, Hazlewood and Sinatra transformed the country song into a duet. Hazlewood, who offers the man’s side of the story, sings in a notably deeper octave than his signature baritone.

Another poignant selection is “Congratulations,” which describes a soldier coming home from Vietnam. “His face has grown old and his eyes have grown cold/And they tell you of where he has been/Congratulations, you sure made a man out of him,” Hazlewood sings, pointedly. Nancy, who performs as the vet’s wife, argues that the song had a deeper meaning for her duet partner. “Lee started out a hawk, he was an army guy, so he was all for the war in the beginning. We didn’t talk about it, but at some point, he changed radically. ‘Congratulations’ was almost like an apology from him. I don’t want to put words in his mouth, but it was as though he was saying ‘I’m really sorry.’”

The song “Friendship Train” could also be interpreted as an apology of sorts – this time to Nancy. “You’ve been hurt and I’ve been hurt/Now we’re living pain,” the tune opens. When Hazlewood moved to Sweden without telling his longtime musical partner, Sinatra was understandably upset. “I felt pretty betrayed. I mean, who does that? Who just up and disappears like that? I’ll never understand it,” she reveals. But the uplifting duet – a slice of ‘70s pop perfection – offers reaffirming words of love between friends. “Lee felt things very deeply and tended to express his feelings in song instead of in real life,” explains Nancy.

The 10-track album closes with the stripped-down “Got It Together.” Backed by an acoustic guitar, the song is equal parts playful and candid, as the duo has an impromptu, spoken-word conversation about their lives. “I wish that we’d quit getting so old,” laments Nancy, who later shares her wish to have children (she would do so in the next few years). Hazlewood, meanwhile, attempts to remedy his past wrongdoings – this time asking his partner, “Can I go back to Sweden?” With that, Nancy gives her blessing.

This definitive reissue of Nancy & Lee Again also includes two bonus tracks. Both are stylistic departures for the duo – but fit right in with the psychedelic pop of the era. The first one, “Think I’m Coming Down,” is a harmony-filled reflection on a toxic relationship. “I think that was one of Lee’s drug things. I don’t mean that he used drugs; I mean that he was trying to be part of that culture. Trying to be hip,” explains Nancy, who delivers an emotive vocal performance on the solo track. Also included is “Machine Gun Kelly,” penned by a staple of the 70s singer-songwriter movement, Danny Kortchmar (James Taylor, Carole King, Linda Ronstadt). Recorded several months after the release of the album, the song found Nancy reuniting with Billy Strange, who arranged many of her solo albums, as well as Nancy & Lee. Sinatra and Hazlewood first performed “Machine Gun Kelly” during their residency at Las Vegas’ Riviera Hotel in February 1972 (later released as a concert documentary on Swedish television). While the recording has long remained a career favorite of Nancy’s, it would be decades before it was officially released.

Nancy & Lee Again remains a creative high point in the careers of Sinatra and Hazlewood and, upon its release, garnered rave reviews from Billboard, Record World, and Cash Box, among others. Yet, Nancy & Lee Again never received the spotlight it so utterly deserved. “We didn’t have label support at all in those days,” recalls Nancy. “Without the strength of a label, records die. We were old. We were old-fashioned. We were just not what was happening. It’s a very ageist kind of business.” Nevertheless, she adds, “I think it’s a very good album. I think it’s timeless.” Now, after years of being a sought-after rarity, this gem in the Sinatra-Hazlewood canon can finally get its due.

Five decades later, Nancy’s legacy only continues to grow, as new generations discover her impressive catalog (which boasts nearly 20 studio albums – her duets with Hazlewood among them – and dozens of charting singles, including the theme song to the 1967 James Bond film, You Only Live Twice). In 2020, Sinatra was recognized by her peers when “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’” was inducted into the GRAMMY® Hall of Fame. That same year, Sinatra partnered with Light in the Attic for Nancy Sinatra: Start Walkin’ 1965-1976, a definitive survey of her most prolific period. LITA has also reissued Sinatra’s classic debut, Boots, and her iconic, 1968 album with Lee Hazlewood, Nancy & Lee. The label looks forward to celebrating Nancy over the coming years with a variety of special releases, exclusive merchandise, and more.

Felte Records presents `Glimpse Of Heaven' - a stunning new album by the Hawaii-born, LA-based musician, singer, producer and professional mastering engineer Jess Labrador, AKA Chasms. Labrador's deeply personal work as Chasms has always felt like an unveiling. Following 2019's `The Mirage,' which was a dark, dubby meditation on grief and loss, this new album is both familiar and different. The third full-length under the Chasms name, `Glimpse of Heaven' trades in washes of reverb for starker moments of closeness and intimacy. An exploration of the personal inventory and reckoning necessary to move forward in life, the LP considers not only how we relate to the world, but more importantly how we relate to ourselves. While always distinct, you could previously detect post-punk, shoegaze, and dub sensibilities in the music. Dreamy drift tethered by skittered beats, airy vocals, and melancholic melodies are here like previous efforts too. However, at the same time, Labrador steps into new territory with an expanse of vaporous synths and samples, adding to the project's ethereal electronic pop and dubwise pulse. Lush guitars glisten throughout the album, but this time only in sparse, disciplined embellishments. `Glimpse of Heaven' is a fully realised version of Chasms beyond its influences; to say that this is a seamless evocation of such disparate sounds as Massive Attack, Basic Chanel, Sade, Seefeel and Dif Juz is to say it is wholly unique. While she continues to unfurl her thoughts, there is a shift from opening up to the listener toward allowing the listener to witness her opening to herself. Where the last Chasms record was about various kinds of collapse, `Glimpse of Heaven' is about trying to develop as a whole person. It seems to ultimately be asking whether what we want and what we need align in ways that will get us where we want to be. Can we let go of the comfort of bad habits and steer ourselves toward a less easily obtained but maybe more enduring happiness? `Glimpse of Heaven' is a Chasms record, but really it's a Jess Labrador record. This is the first release operating on her own, and it feels like that's the only way this could have been made. It finds itself in the rare company of those few records that exist within themselves; it's a complete environment. You don't need to know anything to tune in and enjoy the world that she's created. It's a record that feels indebted to itself. It offers premonitions but not directions. It gives us honesty, but doesn't claim to know exactly where that will lead.

Strawberries ripen in the spring. Or so they used to, in a more reliable world, one that seems to be rapidly receding in our collective rearview mirror. Presently, “spring” is a troubled concept — fraught with anxiety. Our seasons, if they are seasons at all, are paradoxical. Crops fail, or they ripen prematurely, all at once, and into a burst of rot. Impossibly, somehow, the supermarket shelves stay stocked (mostly, for now at least), and there are buckets of strawberries on every corner. But, of course, their nature is suspect. And they don’t taste like they used to. Or maybe that’s just ruinous nostalgia. But somewhere along the way we certainly lost something. Everybody knows.

Strawberry Season (Leaving Records, November 9 2022) responds tenderly to this sorry state of affairs, not with false comfort — nor escapism. Rather, the album conveys, often wordlessly, that there remains an abundance of sweetness amidst our increasing unease. While much of twentieth century American popular and folk music may have dwelt on the beauty and plenitude of the prairie, More Eaze applies a similar Romantic focus to the small bursts of fecundity that now hide in plain sight. Blending found sound, generative music, a knack for elegant, classically-informed melodic arrangement, and a sort of Liz-Fraser-by-way-of-hyperpop approach to vocals, Strawberry Season offers unique solace — providing an occasion for the kind of deep listening that our overstimulated and undernourished spirits require if there is to be any hope at all (and of course there must be hope).

More Eaze (serving as composer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, producer, and sound artist) guides us incrementally to this locus of attentiveness. Strawberry Season begins with the softly sweeping gentle pets. Early intimations of Velvet Underground give way, indeed, to a string arrangement that John Cale might have saved for Paris 1919. The second track, Suped, features a kaleidoscopic swirl of grocery checkout scanners that eventually coalesce and release with the subtle strumming of a harp. On known, in the midst of a nearly elegiac outflow of feeling, a shower starts to run. Someone steps inside, pulling the curtain back, sending the plastic rings clattering. Moments later, the unmistakable sound of the showerer blowing their nose — an inclusion that is at once light-hearted and jarringly, movingly intimate.

Strawberry Season’s second to last song, low resolution at santikos, serves as a sustained meditation on all that has come before it. Building slowly throughout its nine minutes, teetering, at times, on the edge of danceability, it dissipates suddenly, and Strawberry Season concludes with the rustling of clothes, snippets of distant conversation, creaking floorboards, an exhale and a sniff. There is a feeling of having arrived, of temporary reprieve in the face of uncertainty. A hint of a season yet to come, or one that is perhaps only now accessible in dreams.

»Love As Projection« is the new album by Frankie Rose, her fifth studio LP and second for Night School following the reissue of her interpretation of The Cure’s »Seventeen Seconds«. Frankie Rose has forged an enviable musical legacy, from playing with bands like Crystal Stilts and The Vivian Girls but on »Love As Projection« she takes a bold step into electronic pop production. A sumptuous recorded statement, it dances in ecstasy and broods on the tumult of the western world’s decay in equal proportion. At the heart of the album is glowing, confident songwriting, resplendent in hooks and choruses but still touched with an optimism undimmed.

After spending nearly two decades establishing herself across New York and Los Angeles independent music circles, Rose re-emerges after six years with a fresh form, aesthetic, and ethos. Celebrated over the years for her expansive approach to songwriting, lush atmospherics, and transcendent vocal melodies and harmonies, »Love As Projection« is a reintroduction of her established style through the lens of contemporary electronic pop. Recorded with producer Brandt Gassman and mixed with long-term collaborator Jorge Elbrecht this is the album Frankie Rose has been building up to her entire career.

More than a rebirth, a refinement, a resurgence, »Love As Projection« boasts a widescreen scope: a long- form project heavily considered for half of a decade, culminating in the most personal and accessible collection of art-pop that Frankie has ever written. When Rose aims for the pop jugular as in first lead track »Anything«, the result is unstoppable. A majestic pop song built for radio, it erupts into an irresistible chorus that marries classic epic 80s American pop with the cult effervescence of Strawberry Switchblade »It’s like a prom scene in a John Hughes movie. It’s a hopeful song about abandoning fear even if the world is quite literally on fire.. In the end, at least we have each other,« says Rose. »Sixteen Ways« further boasts a propulsive, massive chorus, though tempered by a cynicism built in global post-truth, global malaise. »It’s about getting your hopes up, but simultaneously making lists in your head about how it will never work out in your favour.«

The big anthems don’t let up there. On »DOA« some massive, rolling drums lathered in big mid-80s gated reverb dovetail with a syncopated baseline for the ages as Rose’s vocal sails effortlessly above. The effect isn’t unlike ethereal vocalists Clannad circa Howard’s Way or Enya jamming with Simple Minds in their stadium-conquering heyday. Rose tempers the adrenalin with heart-tugging bittersweet tones and there are plenty of them. »Sleeping Night And Day« takes its time with an off-the-cuff chorus, swirling around in harmony and chorus-bass. »Saltwater Girl« picks up the balladeering baton with another nod to album track-mode Switchblade, deep space opening up in the mid-tempo drum track and soupy, digital atmospherics. Album closer »Song For A Horse«, reimagines modern Pop production a-la-PC Music but shorn of the meta-atmosphere. Pianos, swelling synths, minor keys cut through with major. These moments, also seen in Feel Light offer ballast to the soaring pop choruses. Moments like these are big oceans of emotion to fall into before being led out by Rose into a bright new day.

»Love As Projection« is released in the USA by Slumberland.

"And we"re coming out of dreams / And we"re coming back to dreams" is the first thing you hear Bill say as you remake your acquaintance on YTILAER. Right out the gate, he"s standing in two places at once: meeting up with old friends behind the scenes and encountering them on the record, finding himself coming round the bend and then again as someone else on down the line. Like the character actor he played on Gold Record, writing stories about other people, telling jokes about everyone, and in singing them, becoming the songs. "You do what you"ve got to do / To see the picture" Bill"s got a full band sound going on this one, with him and Matt Kinsey on guitars, Emmett Kelly on bass and backing vocals, Sarah Ann Phillips on B3, piano and backing vocals and Jim White on drums. Jim and Matt sing on one song, too, and some other singers come in, too. Bill plays some synth here and there, and Carl Smith drifts in and out of the picture with his contra alto clarinet, as do Mike St. Clair and Derek Phelps on brass. Somehow in between them all, you might think you hear the distant sound of a steel guitar. And you might - but you might not, too. In this company, Bill continues his journey, tunneling underneath the weathered exterior of what seems to be and into the more nuanced life everything takes on in the dark. With Bill"s voice making the extraordinary leaps and bounds that measure the lives of the songs, the band follow him through passages that seem to invent themselves; other times playing with deeply soulful grooves and/or desperate intensity, as these moments come and go. There"s nothing they can"t do. "I wrote this song in five and forever / I"m writing it right now" Bill sings on "Natural Information" - an admission of the everyday alchemy he"s forever trafficking in. Time passes, triangulating the encounters that went into any one record with two out of any three others, all of it made flesh, new constitution, in our stereo speakers. If every album is its own life, it stands to reason that they"re invariably passing in the night. Cascading images flowing from the stream of consciousness. Turning like pages from the journal, unspeakably personal, then suddenly become tall tales, like a book pulled off the shelf, completely unbound. Headlines flow through. Mirror images, mirthful ones. Bill"s lyrics strain at the lines on the page, not content to separate the printing of the fact from the myth or be confined to ink on paper. They want to fly free. And they do. "I realize now that dreams are real" On YTILAER"s inner sleeve, alongside his lyrics, Bill celebrates the "exhilaration and dread" of cover artist Paul Ryan"s paintings. Paul"s another one met up with again down the road, his indelible cover imagery on Apocalypse and Dream River now an axis of meaning in the Callahanian world - and in the bright colors found in these new images, a parallel to Bill"s recognitions here. "A breath of exquisite air as we come up from drowning", sounds like the desired hope for those hearing the songs of YTILAER.

BBE Music’s highly-acclaimed J Jazz Masterclass Series continues with an album that unites three J Jazz legends with a young musician beginning their professional career. Recorded and released in 1986, ‘Approach’ is both sophisticated and experimental in equal measure, balancing serene ambient moments with thunderous and dynamic explosions of energy. ‘Approach’ was originally issued on the Art Union label and sees bass uber-maestro Isao Suzuki, percussion and drumming icon Masahiko Togashi, and keyboard wizard Hideo Ichikawa join together with neophyte guitarist Akira Shiomoto to deliver a first-class showcase of contemporary jazz across five tracks, demonstrating their individual talents working as one unified ensemble. Suzuki’s deeply resonant and pliant basslines move sinuously across the album, supporting Togashi’s ebullient flashes of percussion and Ichikawa’s lush textures and colourations; topping it all off is the young Shiomoto’s guitar adding melodic texture and shine. Opening with ‘Make Trip’, Ichikawa’s gentle introduction makes way for a change of gear as Suzuki’s bass drives the band along before Togashi’s drum and percussion centrepiece solo leads to the outro. The plaintive and bluesy ‘Otari’ follows next, with Ichikawa’s piano flowing around and between the rhythmic undertow from Suzuki and Togashi. Things turn slightly more experimental on ‘Mysterious’ as Suzuki, the piece’s composer, turns to arco bass effects and Ichikawa employs synthesiser and electronic textures to add colour to the palette.

Gated kick off 2023 with a corker of a remix package, featuring an epic electro workout from Radioactive Man and lo-fi deep house from Max Wheeler of Anushka fame.

Marcela Dias Sindaco’s breathy Portuguese vocals always lent themselves to remixes and these five cuts use them to great effect.

Keith Tenniswood’s storming version of Missao Controle kicks off the EP, with a near-8-minute bass-heavy acid monster that retains the original’s funky elements but pushes them way into the future.

German upstarts not even noticed take Extincao nice and deep for those loved-up dancefloor moments, again bringing in melodic elements from the original, but twisting them just enough to flow into a dreamy acidic breakdown.

Flip to the B and Anushka’s Max Wheeler goes it alone, with a deep and crackly analogue house version of Dois Lados. Injected with just a smidgeon of jazz, this is definitely one for the heads.

Next up, longtime Gated collaborator Dip Shim, whose debut album only just dropped, brings a straight-up electro jam version of Pro Meu Bem, with haunting pads and insistent arpeggios.

Rounding off the EP is Perseus Traxx’s deeper than deep take on Missao Controle, a tripped out reverby journey laden with his signature hardware sound.

Hayley released her highly anticipated sophomore album ‘PANORAMA’, on 29th July 2022 on CD, & vinyl 3rd March 2023. Co-written by Hayley and produced by Kiyoko, Danja (Beyoncé, Britney Spears) and Pat Morrissey & Kill Dave, the transformative 12-track collection featured previously released singles, “For The Girls,” “Deep In The Woods,” “Chance,” and “Found My Friends”

“I went through a period of time after my last album where I'd lost my confidence and my self-worth. Thankfully I was surrounded by friends and family who kept me grounded, always supporting me in my lowest moments and reminding me who I was along the way. ‘Panorama’ was the last song I wrote for this album, in a moment of clarity to enjoy the present and not let my trauma define me. One of my favourite lyrics from this song is ‘I’m done confusing all these ashes with my worth,’ which is a metaphor for when we measure our own value only by our struggles and hardships, but in reality, our worth is unwavering. We just need to give ourselves the space to appreciate the highs and the lows of this beautiful journey.” – HAYLEY KIYOKO

In 2018, Hayley was at a high point. Following the success of her gold-certified anthem “Girls Like Girls,” Hayley’s landmark debut album, EXPECTATIONS, reacted with tastemakers and a legion of fans. Hayley resonated with a newfound community who brought her total streams to just shy of 1 billion as she sold out tours on multiple continents, lit up the stage at Coachella, and picked up “Push Artist of the Year” at the MTV VMAs.

Since her 2015 debut, Hayley has amassed over 606 million+ career WW audio streams, 507 million+ YouTube lifetime video views, and over 6 million followers across socials, notably 1.9m on Instagram and 1.7m on TikTok alone.

Bartosz Kruczyński, also known as artist Earth Trax, is arguably among the leading names in Poland’s current electronic music scene. Based in Warsaw, his music is deeply emotive and explores a wide-ranging sonic palette that is complemented by well-defined artistic concepts. He has already featured on labels including Phonica Records, Growing Bin, Into The Light and Shall Not Fade –with whom he released his acclaimed debut album in 2020–.

His Lapsus release 'Closer Now', takes a different trajectory to his previous album 'The Sensual World' Shall Not Fade, 2022, fundamentally an energetic and high tempo club record. In contrast, 'Closer Now' focuses on fresh and disparate ideas, with tracks that could typically be classified as more unrestrained B-sides that deconstruct sounds aimed at the dancefloor.

‘Closer Now' is influenced by liminal spaces and cultivates surreal and dreamlike qualities. Conversely it also possesses a sense of strength and grit, highlighted by moments where electronic distortion bares its teeth. It is an album that both refers both to IDM and chill out rooms.

Vibrant acid tracks knead muscular electronic dance
structures on Gerald Brunson’s debut EP. A member of
the Model 500 extended family and running Dance
Sacred Records, Brunson presents a restless world
that beckons forth from the underground of the
Midwest, full of bouncing flair and techno passion.

Hoffman's S.O.S. (Scully, Owsley, Sand) is more than a
mere head nod to the alchemists participating in the
League for Spiritual Discovery and The Brotherhood of
Eternal Love. It induces a pristine acid trip that twists
neurons about agitated filtered eects and eective
rhythmic structures. Finally, it emerges into wondrous
vistas of ever-expanding horizons. Blue Striped Felix
worms deep into the groove with the same brawn, its
components lean and unceasing.

Over on the flip side, 2way struts a mean dance,
stripping out the previous track’s acid melodies into
something far more focused on repetition with an
electro influence shining through. This electro sound
beams forward even more into a mutant funk on Morf.
The synths move squeakily as if the machine got
jammed into enlightenment. Unexpected beat
changes flick over to a four to the floor briefly, before
out of nowhere chords invite the closing moments in
with an eventual melodic response to the dancing
synths.

Brunson's tracks represent a unique sound. Techno is
as real as the person who experiences it, and these
tracks come from an enigmatic messenger who is
firmly out on a limb.

2023 Repress

* Tales of the Inexpressible” was released on Twisted Records in 2001.

It was a much anticipated and well loved successor continuing in the pioneering spirit of the debut album and in this exceptional follow up they gave us plenty more multi-dimensional surprises and new sonic realities to explore and immerse ourselves in.
From the opening sounds on “Dorset Perception”, the first track featuring flamenco guitar and Latin percussion, we can tell we are in for some incredible planetary as well as interplanetary trips on this musical voyage as Si & Raj take us for a spin though their musical worlds, full of influences garnered on their travels to the 4 corners of the earth.

As the Star Shpongled Banner unfurls, the immeasurable beauty of the album is illustriously illustrated with blissful cascades of Indian Flute washing over the minds ear and achingly beautiful synths rippling with dimensional dub effects throughout. As the Shaman’s voice resonates through the digital dream, the Shaman’s drum begins to beat leading us to a vedic celtic crescendo.

By the time Room 23 emanates from the loudspeakers, Shpongle have confirmed their position as the true pioneers once again, shining a light on the deeper development of the Psybient and Psychill sound and unmistakably elevating the consciousness of the listener to previously unheard of heights by bringing the eddying currents of Raj’s magical flute lines and Simons mellifluous keyboard riffs and genius production style together in an extraordinary hallucinogenic mix.

The album holds 9 gems glistening in hyperspace, gems of unmistakable brilliance and radiant beauty in which every composition contains worlds within worlds, as explored by Raja and Simon on their epic voyages into the depths of musical exploration and recounted in these tales.

They have been the soundtrack to innumerable visionary voyages for the neuronaut cognoscenti, because of the multi layered sounds, shapeshifting focus and awe inspiring depths of the advanced Shpongle production techniques. Tales of the inexpressible is quite literally, beyond description and has been a part of creating so many beautiful moments that its absence from our lives is unimaginable. 

Repress !

The long-awaited reissue of the best ever album of rare Eastern and psychedelic Jazz music by this famous Hungarian guitarist
Gabor Szabo, originally released in 1968. For the first time as extended edition with 2 bonus tracks: radio versions of Fire Dance
/ Ferris Wheel from the 1969 7” single 7”. Deluxe 8-sided Digipak CD and Gatefold Vinyl come with long, exclusively written
inner notes by the famous researcher and biographer Douglas Payne. Remastered by Martin Bowes at Cage Studios (UK).
Gabor Szabo was one of the most original guitarists to emerge in the 1960s, mixing his Hungarian folk music heritage with a deep
love of jazz and crafting a distinctive, largely self-taught sound. Born in Budapest, on March 8, 1936, Szabo was inspired by a Roy
Rogers cowboy movie to begin playing guitar when he was 14 and often played in dinner clubs and covert jam sessions while still
living in his hometown. He escaped from his country at age 20 on the eve of the Communist uprising and eventually made his way
to America, settling with his family in California.
He attended Berklee College (1958-1960) and in 1961 joined Chico Hamilton's innovative quintet featuring Charles Lloyd. Urged
by Hamilton, Szabo crafted a most distinctive sound; as agile on intricate, nearly-free runs as he was able to sound inspired during
melodic passages. Szabo left the Hamilton group in 1965 to leave his mark on the pop-jazz of the Gary McFarland quintet and the
energy music of Charles Lloyd's fiery and underrated quartet featuring Ron Carter and Tony Williams.
Szabo initiated a solo career in 1966, recording the exceptional album, Spellbinder, which yielded many inspired moments and
"Gypsy Queen," the song Santana turned into a huge hit in 1970. Szabo formed an innovative quintet (1967-1969) featuring the
brilliant, classically trained guitarist Jimmy Stewart and recorded many notable albums during the late '60s. The emergence of
rock music (especially George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Jimi Hendrix) found Szabo experimenting with feedback and more
commercially oriented forms of jazz.
During the '70s, Szabo regularly performed along the West Coast, hypnotizing audiences with his enchanting, spellbinding style.
From 1970, he locked into a commercial groove, even though records like Mizrab occasionally revealed his seamless jazz, pop,
Gypsy, Indian, and Asian fusions. Szabo had revisited his homeland several times during the '70s, finding opportunities to perform
brilliantly with native talents. He was hospitalized during his final visit and died in 1982, just short of his 46th birthday.

Repress !

The long-awaited reissue of the best ever album of rare Eastern and psychedelic Jazz music by this famous Hungarian guitarist
Gabor Szabo, originally released in 1968. For the first time as extended edition with 2 bonus tracks: radio versions of Fire Dance
/ Ferris Wheel from the 1969 7” single 7”. Deluxe 8-sided Digipak CD and Gatefold Vinyl come with long, exclusively written
inner notes by the famous researcher and biographer Douglas Payne. Remastered by Martin Bowes at Cage Studios (UK).
Gabor Szabo was one of the most original guitarists to emerge in the 1960s, mixing his Hungarian folk music heritage with a deep
love of jazz and crafting a distinctive, largely self-taught sound. Born in Budapest, on March 8, 1936, Szabo was inspired by a Roy
Rogers cowboy movie to begin playing guitar when he was 14 and often played in dinner clubs and covert jam sessions while still
living in his hometown. He escaped from his country at age 20 on the eve of the Communist uprising and eventually made his way
to America, settling with his family in California.
He attended Berklee College (1958-1960) and in 1961 joined Chico Hamilton's innovative quintet featuring Charles Lloyd. Urged
by Hamilton, Szabo crafted a most distinctive sound; as agile on intricate, nearly-free runs as he was able to sound inspired during
melodic passages. Szabo left the Hamilton group in 1965 to leave his mark on the pop-jazz of the Gary McFarland quintet and the
energy music of Charles Lloyd's fiery and underrated quartet featuring Ron Carter and Tony Williams.
Szabo initiated a solo career in 1966, recording the exceptional album, Spellbinder, which yielded many inspired moments and
"Gypsy Queen," the song Santana turned into a huge hit in 1970. Szabo formed an innovative quintet (1967-1969) featuring the
brilliant, classically trained guitarist Jimmy Stewart and recorded many notable albums during the late '60s. The emergence of
rock music (especially George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Jimi Hendrix) found Szabo experimenting with feedback and more
commercially oriented forms of jazz.
During the '70s, Szabo regularly performed along the West Coast, hypnotizing audiences with his enchanting, spellbinding style.
From 1970, he locked into a commercial groove, even though records like Mizrab occasionally revealed his seamless jazz, pop,
Gypsy, Indian, and Asian fusions. Szabo had revisited his homeland several times during the '70s, finding opportunities to perform
brilliantly with native talents. He was hospitalized during his final visit and died in 1982, just short of his 46th birthday.

This land runs through Katherine Paul’s blood. And it called to her. In dreams she saw the river, her ancestors, and her home. When the land calls, you listen. And KP found herself far from her ancestral lands during a time of collective trauma, when the world was wounded and in need of healing. In 2020 she made the journey from Portland back to the Skagit River, back to the cedar
trees that stand tall and shrouded in fog, back to the tide flats and the mountains, back to Swinomish.

It is a powerful thing to return to our ancestral lands and often times the journey is not easy. Like the salmon through the currents, like the tide as it crawls to shore this is a story of return. It is the call and response. It is the outstretched arms of the people who came before, welcoming her home. The Land, The Water, The Sky is a celebration of lineage and strength. Even in its deepest moments of loneliness and grief, of frustration over a world wrought with colonial violence and pain, the songs remind us that if we slow down, if we listen to the waves and the wind through the trees, we will remember to breathe.

There is a throughline of story in every song, a remembrance of knowledge and teachings, a gratitude of wisdom passed down and carried. There is a reimagining of Sedna who was offered to the sea, and a beautiful rumination on sacrifice and humanity, and what it means to hold the stories that work to teach us something.

Chord progressions born out of moments of sadness and solitude transform into the islands that sit blue along the horizon. The Salish Sea curves along her homelands, and when the singer is close to this water she is reminded of her grandmother, how she looked out at these same islands, and she’s held by spirit and memory.

The Land, The Water, The Sky rises and falls, in darkness and in light, but even in its most melancholy moments it is never despairing. That is the beauty of returning home. When you stand on ancestral lands it is impossible to be alone. You feel the arms and hands that hold you up, unwilling to let you fall into sorrow or abandonment. In her songs Katherine Paul has channeled that feeling of being held. In every note she has written a love letter to indigenous strength and healing.

There is a joy present here, a fierce blissfulness that comes with walking the trails along the river, feeling the sand and th stones beneath her feet. It is the pride and the certainty that comes with knowing her ancestors walked along the same land, dipped their hands into the water, and ran their fingertips along the same bark of cedar trees.

This is a story of hope, as it details the joy of returning. Katherine Paul’s journey home wasn’t made alone, and the songs are crowded with loved ones and relatives, like a really good party. And as the songs walk us through the land it is important we hover over the images and the beauty, the moments that mark this album as site specific. The power of this land is woven throughout, telling the story of narrow waterways, brush strokes, salmon stinta, and above all healing.

Let it take you. Move through the story and see the land through her eyes, because it is a gift, a welcomed sʔabadəb.*

*The word “gift” in Lushootseed, the language of the Coast Salish people“

Renoir Of The Toys is a deep dive into the world of Youri Kun, the nom de plume of Japanese guitarist, singer and songwriter Hiroshi Nar. It follows a similar compilation, Unheld Ball, released in 2022 on Japanese label Inundow; like that album, Renoir Of The Toys draws from the rich catalogue of outsider psych-garage and rock recorded by Youri Kun over the past two decades. Deeply wired into the history of Japanese underground music, Nar was a founding member of legendary ‘70s outfit Datetenryu, and a member of both Brain Police (Zuno Keisatsu) and Les Ralllizes Dénudés (Hadaka No Rallizes), appearing on the latter’s ’77 Live.

After going to ground during the 1980s, Nar started making music with Niplets in the mid-90s, and releasing music at a prolific pace in 2000 – an excellent run of (sometimes archival) CD-Rs on the Hello Goodbye Studio label, both solo, and with his groups Molls, Niplets and Port Cuss; an album on P.S.F. by Jokers, where he was joined by fellow Rallizes member Yokai Takahashi, and drummer Toshiaki Ishizuka (Brain Police, Vajra, Cinorama, etc.); and sixteen albums (and counting) as Youri Kun, for labels Gyunne Cassette, Inundow, and Hören. He’s also fallen in with the Acid Mothers Temple crowd, guesting on a few of their albums, and recording a live set with Kawabata Makoto’s Nishinihon trio.

All Nar’s music shares a deceptive primitivism; it moves with the simplicity of the best 1960s garage punk, but its edges are blurred and stretched, allowing for all kinds of weird, elliptical, and psychedelic moves to happen in its margins. His guitar playing on songs like “Kakunin” (from 2011’s Yamaimo Boogie) shimmies and slurs magnificently; “Kurokami”, from 2012’s Su, has clanking six strings scrawling over loose, spaced-out synth; there are clunky psychobilly moves (“Oshiro no Ninjya”), spirited rave-ups for rattling organ and sputtering guitar (“Totsugeki”), and some lovely, drowsy, melancholy moments (“Sora”).

The constant throughout is Nar’s blues-blurred, drawling voice, as unique a tool as the non-idiomatic speak-sing styles of solo Syd Barrett, Jad Fair, or Dave E. McManus. There are also three Les Rallizes Dénudés covers here, where Nar locates the pop genius at the heart of songs like “Shiroi Yoru” and amplifies this with his simple garage-reverential take on things. Renoir Of The Toys is yet more evidence that Hiroshi Nar was, and is, one of Japan’s musical visionaries, a lonesome voice dedicated to a singular, streamlined vision, one that’s in eternal pursuit of the joy and kicks at the heart of rock’n’roll, and a reminder of what a great, unpretentious rock’n’roller truly should be.

What is the sound of feeling?
In physics, we conceive of sound as waves. Vibrations, undulations, physical manifestations: heard but not seen. Borne by the body but interpreted in the brain.
Within ourselves, we perceive emotion as waves, too. Rolling in, rolling out: tidal, even. In moments of violet intensity, the depth of our feeling crashes upon us like surf, rip currents on a corporeal beach.
Worlds apart, but waves in kind. For musician and composer Jo Johnson, the veil between is diaphanous indeed. What you hear is what you feel. Listen and uncover.
Jo Johnson has releases on Further Records, Going In (a sub-label of The Bunker), Verdant and Apartment

Celebrating its one hundredth release, Black Truffle is honoured to present a major archival discovery: a stunning document of the only performance by the trio of Tony Conrad, Arnold Dreyblatt and Jim O’Rourke. Across a two-night programme organised by David Weinstein at legendary New York experimental venue Tonic in January 2001, Conrad, Dreyblatt and O’Rourke presented individual projects before performing a collaborative set each night, the first with members of Dreyblatt’s ensemble and the second the trio heard here. As Dreyblatt points out in the wonderfully informative and reflective liner notes written for this release, this was a collaboration across generations, reflecting the profound impact of Conrad’s pioneering minimalism on Dreyblatt and O’Rourke. Both Dreyblatt and O’Rourke came to this collaboration armed with a deep appreciation of Conrad’s music and the just intonation principles at its core, Dreyblatt having first encountered the incredible power of Conrad’s precisely tuned violin chords during his tenure as an archivist for La Monte Young in 1975, while O’Rourke had performed with Conrad in various settings since the mid-1990s (as well as admiring, reissuing, and performing Dreyblatt's music). The flyer for the concert promised ‘massive, ecstatic, pulsating overtones’, and the trio certainly delivered. From the moment this keening stream of bowed strings begins, it is clear, as Dreyblatt writes, that we are in ‘Tony’s sonic universe’, as massively amplified, slowly shifting combinations of precisely chosen pitches fill the room with complex beating patterns and ghostly difference tones. For more than twenty-five minutes, the music operates at a level of intensity comparable to classic recordings such as Conrad’s Four Violins, until the texture thins out slightly in the performance’s final quarter, allowing for the listener’s first recognition of the individual voices that make up this enormous, overwhelming harmonic edifice. The constant stream of bowed tones is broken by a beautifully rich pizzicato from Conrad on monochord, the sliding low tones and metallic shimmer of the other strings taking the set's final moments on an unexpected detour into spacious pastoral psychedelia.

Though produced by three individuals known for their own distinctive bodies of the work, this is egoless music, the perfect expression of Conrad's desire 'to move away from composing to listening', to 'working "on" the sound from "inside" the sound'. Historically important and overwhelming in sonic impact, this release also serves as a moving tribute to Tony Conrad from two musicians profoundly marked by the example set by his art and life.