quête:definition

"Pop" is a tag that's been assigned to Minus The Bear throughout their career. It's been used to set a distinction between the unique brand of complex indie rock they introduced on their first EP and the more angular and aggravated sounds of their previous bands Botch, Kill Sadie, and Sharks Keep Moving. It's also a tag that was thrown around frequently in the wake of their streamlined fourth album, OMNI. And it's a descriptor that immediately comes to mind within the first few seconds of their classic second formal EP, They Make Beer Commercials Like This. Now celebrating its 10-year anniversary and first time in print since 2011, Beer Commercials is the evolutionary step between Minus The Bear's first two landmark albums, Highly Refined Pirates and Menos El Oso. Opening track "Fine + 2 Points" remains one of the band's strongest opening tracks in their discography,charging out of the gates with a syncopated stomp that comes across as a more agitated take on Kylie Minogue's "Can't Get You Outta My Head". If Minus The Bear were looking to make pop music without any of its major-scale bubblegum trappings, they nailed it here. The band follows it with "Let's Play Clowns" and "Dog Park" - nods to Highly Refined Pirates' formula of frenetic clean guitar work, bombastic choruses, and Jake Snider's lyrics of detached romantic nostalgia. These tracks may represent Minus The Bear's original trademark version of pop, but on songs like "I'm Totally Not Down With Rob's Alien" the band eschews it's restless energy for atmosphere and dynamics, creating a sound that's inspired more than a handful of contemporary melodic post-rock bands. By the time the band belts out "Pony Up!" the listener has watched the three-year sonic transition between Minus The Bear's first two full-lengths transpire within under half-an-hour, with the their earlier math rock predilections yielding to the tightly wound club-banging pedalboard trickery that defined their sophomore album. Even if Beer Commercials doesn't fit within your definition of pop music, the unorthodox energetic charm of this relatively low-profile release serves as an exciting reminder of why Minus The Bear became one of the most important and influential indie rock bands of the new century.

Davide & Emily form the duo "The Jackson Pollock", delivering an explosive blend of lo-fi and garage music that creates a sound far greater than the sum of its parts. Emily sounds like a cannon blast when she strikes her 22âÇ3 ride cymbal with full force, while simultaneously cursing the spirit with mermaid-like melodies. Davide alternates between guitar and bass, bringing distorted, bluesy tones to life. "What we do is very energetic, free, and positive, because we want to encourage people to have the courage to do what they truly want - to be themselves and fearless - as human and as animal - while avoiding any kind of schema, external structures, definitions, and imposed references."

Eager Buyers is an observation of longing, of memory, of attempted connection, of lost innocence, and irreconcilable dreams. It"s the sound of broken promises for a bright future, where rose-tinted glasses have lost their clarity, dirtied with disaffection over time. Across this sultry, smoky, cinematic epic, JASSS attempts to process mixed feelings amidst the modern malaise. Alluringly atmospheric and cerebral, but bold and direct, with high-spec sound design, JASSS spaces each element with expert definition. Searing swathes of noise nestle with crisp breakbeats, billowing bass, dark ambience, prepared piano, phosphorescent electronics and calibrated percussion.

„Musik, die in den Schlaf wiegt und die singt, die aus neuem Blut besteht, aus sprechenden Gesten, einem unbekannten Duft, einem nicht schlafenden Vogel; Musik aus bunten Kirchenfenstern, ein Wirbel von Komplementärfarben, ein theologischer Regenbogen.“ Diese persönliche Definition, die Olivier Messiaen mit diesen Worten gegeben hat, dient als Resümee eines der wichtigsten Werke, die Messiaen in seiner ersten Schaffensperiode schuf, das Quatuor pour la Fin du Temps. Von den originalen 8-Spur-Bändern gemixt und geschnitten, bietet diese Edition ein atemberaubendes Hörerlebnis in höchster analoger Klangqualität.

Die audiophile Vinyl-Serie The Original Source präsentiert herausragende Aufnahmen der 1970er Jahre in ganz neuer Klangqualität. Dafür haben die renommierten Emil Berliner Studios die originalen Vier- und Achtspur-Bänder mit eigens für die Produktion der Serie entwickelten Technologien in 100% analoger Qualität (AAA) neu gemastert und geschnitten. Die klanglichen Unterschiede zu den Originalveröffentlichungen sind beträchtlich: Größere Klarheit, mehr Feinheiten und Verbesserungen im Frequenzgang, zugleich weniger Nebengeräusche, Verzerrungen und Komprimierungen ermöglichen ein audiophiles Hörerlebnis wie nie zuvor.

Auf 180g Vinylplatten und in einer Deluxe-Gatefold Edition mit Originalcovers und -texten werden die Exemplare dieser Serie limitiert und nummeriert veröffentlicht, begleitet von zusätzlichen Fotos und Faksimiles der Aufnahmeprotokolle und Bandkartons.

Metatone is a tonic-containing substance used to help restore health and vitality after illnesses or when you are feeling tired. A metaphor, which perfectly describes Ement's debut album - a mixture of peak-time electro/techno tunes spiced up with the modern traces of EBM, which perfectly fits clubs and festivals. It is a personal dancefloor experience materialization of a non-stop party rebel, who started his music production journey in the periphery and got inspired by his brother's hard dance production experiments. After an intensive exploration of the local and foreign club scene through years of intensive djing, remixing and never-ending afterhours, Ement finalized his recent definition of dance, which launches on the new co-curated PZ Records label.
An unexpected break and a long-lasting limbus of the dancefloor consumption turned out as a perfect slot to reveal one of many underestimated Lithuanian producers, who are too shy and too critical to themselves. It's no fiction, as "How Much Is Too Much" was already noticed and compiled by Dave Clark in his "Whitenoise" radio show.

200 Records marks its 50th release with a four-track EP showcasing both fresh faces and long-time contributors to the label. M.R.E. opens with a vibrant house cut, full of energy and warmth. Blauert follows with a deep, dub-tinged house track, subtle but with a steady, driving rhythm that keeps things moving. Havantepe contributes a deep and intricate Detroit-inspired techno track, rich in texture and unmistakably his own. Till Krüger rounds off the release with a timeless B2 track: —subtle, melodic, and unmistakably his in style.

Highly recommended by Paul Nazca, Tim French, Chad jackson, Brett Gould, Johan, Sinca, Spencer Brown, Steve parry, Ruede Hagelstein,
Karotte, Alexander maier, Greg Eversoul, Dibby Dougherty / Island Hill, Adi Shabat, Michel de Hey, Francesco Chiocci, Paul James Nolan,
Yas Cepeda, Urmet K, Satoshi Fumi, Steve Raschke, Siavash, Ranj Kaler, Nhar / Bernhard Siefert, Four Candles, Alex Neri, Dimitri Schnider / Definition,
Yves Eaux, Cerillio, Paco Osuna, Lonya, Richie Hawtin, Just Her, Stefano Lotti, Nick Stoynoff, Joseph Capriati, Luke Garcia, Mihai Popoviciu, Daniel Mehlhart, Joris Voorn, Jamie Jones, Greg Fenton, Audio Jack, Stefan Weise....to name a few!

Miles Davis' Final Collaboration with Arranger Gil Evans Yields Watershed Innovations: Flamenco-Themed Sketches of Spain Spins Graceful Webs of Sound and Emotion Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 33RPM LP Set Brings Out the Record's Full Spectrum of Color: 65th Anniversary Edition Pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing and Strictly Limited to 5,000 Numbered Copies 1/4" / 15 IPS analogue master to DSD 64 to analogue console to lathe Miles Davis and Gil Evans bridged styles and collaborated on high-concept projects three different times during their celebrated careers. For their final act, they created Sketches of Spain, a peak moment in each luminary's legacy.

The transformative album weds Spanish themes, lush orchestrations, romantic timbres, and Davis' lyrical methods in a tender ceremony that resonates more than six decades after its original release. Part of Mobile Fidelity's Miles Davis restoration series, this 1960 landmark has been afforded the ultimate white-gloves treatment for its 65th anniversary. Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, this UltraDisc One-Step 33RPM 180g LP set dramatically expands the soundstages and eradicates a dryness that many critics found inhibitive to the record's enjoyment. You can now hear the full-range responsiveness of the woodwinds, strings, and percussion, all of which come alive with superior definition and detail.

The beautiful presentation of this UD1S set befits the record's historical importance. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features a special foil-stamped jacket and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the 1960 LP. This reissue is made for discerning listeners who desire to fully immerse themselves with the album. And who wouldn't want to go deep with Sketches of Spain? Whether it is the somber mood piece "Concierto de Aranjuez," renowned for Davis' flugelhorn performance, or the folktale-based "Solea," Sketches of Spain transfixes with playing, ideas, and innovations exclusive to this incomparable effort. It's one reason why Mobile Fidelity's engineers took all available measures to insert listeners into the space originally occupied by Davis, bassist Paul Chambers, drummer Jimmy Cobb, percussionist Elvin Jones, and an 18-piece orchestra. The results are as breathtaking as the music.

Multi-note motifs, brief improvisational solos, fanfare sweeps, and contrapuntal exchanges inform flamenco-spiced pieces. Davis' famous Harmon-muted trumpet is complemented by an assortment of bassoons and French horns. Heard together, they create pleasing contrasts and sounds (pp, mf, ppp) that get to what resides at the heart of Sketches of Spain: color. Seldom, if ever, did Davis ever so expressively and liberally paint with color. And in Evans, he has a likewise-minded partner to help draw out tones, shades, layers, and textures. What they achieved continues to draw praise from the global music community in the 21st century. Ranked #358 on Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, deemed "a work of unparalleled grace and lyricism" by noted scribe J.D. Considine, bestowed a five-star review from DownBeat, and noted by Q to have taken "jazz in a new direction," the Grammy Award-winning effort has never been better.Miles Davis' Final Collaboration with Arranger Gil Evans Yields Watershed Innovations: Flamenco-Themed Sketches of Spain Spins Graceful Webs of Sound and Emotion Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 33RPM LP Set Brings Out the Record's Full Spectrum of Color: 65th Anniversary Edition Pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing and Strictly Limited to 5,000 Numbered Copies 1/4" / 15 IPS analogue master to DSD 64 to analogue console to lathe Miles Davis and Gil Evans bridged styles and collaborated on high-concept projects three different times during their celebrated careers.

For their final act, they created Sketches of Spain, a peak moment in each luminary's legacy. The transformative album weds Spanish themes, lush orchestrations, romantic timbres, and Davis' lyrical methods in a tender ceremony that resonates more than six decades after its original release. Part of Mobile Fidelity's Miles Davis restoration series, this 1960 landmark has been afforded the ultimate white-gloves treatment for its 65th anniversary. Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, this UltraDisc One-Step 33RPM 180g LP set dramatically expands the soundstages and eradicates a dryness that many critics found inhibitive to the record's enjoyment. You can now hear the full-range responsiveness of the woodwinds, strings, and percussion, all of which come alive with superior definition and detail. The beautiful presentation of this UD1S set befits the record's historical importance. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features a special foil-stamped jacket and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the 1960 LP.

This reissue is made for discerning listeners who desire to fully immerse themselves with the album. And who wouldn't want to go deep with Sketches of Spain? Whether it is the somber mood piece "Concierto de Aranjuez," renowned for Davis' flugelhorn performance, or the folktale-based "Solea," Sketches of Spain transfixes with playing, ideas, and innovations exclusive to this incomparable effort. It's one reason why Mobile Fidelity's engineers took all available measures to insert listeners into the space originally occupied by Davis, bassist Paul Chambers, drummer Jimmy Cobb, percussionist Elvin Jones, and an 18-piece orchestra. The results are as breathtaking as the music. Multi-note motifs, brief improvisational solos, fanfare sweeps, and contrapuntal exchanges inform flamenco-spiced pieces. Davis' famous Harmon-muted trumpet is complemented by an assortment of bassoons and French horns. Heard together, they create pleasing contrasts and sounds (pp, mf, ppp) that get to what resides at the heart of Sketches of Spain: color. Seldom, if ever, did Davis ever so expressively and liberally paint with color. And in Evans, he has a likewise-minded partner to help draw out tones, shades, layers, and textures. What they achieved continues to draw praise from the global music community in the 21st century. Ranked #358 on Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, deemed "a work of unparalleled grace and lyricism" by noted scribe J.D. Considine, bestowed a five-star review from DownBeat, and noted by Q to have taken "jazz in a new direction," the Grammy Award-winning effort has never been better.

Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP Set Plays with Authoritative Tonality, Airiness, and Clarity:
Pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl and Strictly Limited to
3,000 Numbered Copies
1/4” / 15 IPS Dolby A analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Joni Mitchell is the only artist who could’ve made Hejira. The legendary singer-songwriter said as much when discussing the album decades after its release. Yet that fact seemed obvious from the moment the gold-certified effort streeted in fall 1976. An adventurous travelogue, probing narrative, and offbeat homage to freedom, Hejira remains an inimitable entry in the catalog of recorded music — a spare, gorgeous, meditative series of sonic vignettes comprised of floating harmonic pop, cool jazz, soft rock, and sensitive vocal elements that beckon feelings of motion, discovery, and self-examination.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents the record ranked the 133rd Greatest of All Time by Rolling Stone with definitive detail, richness, accuracy, and directness. Marking the first time the revered LP has received audiophile treatment, it's one of six iconic 1970s Mitchell records Mobile Fidelity is reissuing on vinyl and SACD.

Playing with a virtually nonexistent noise floor, dead-quiet surfaces, and superior groove definition, this collectible reissue reproduces in enveloping fashion the tones, textures, and craftsmanship that help Hejira function as the equivalent of a liberating trip down an open road with nothing but blue sky, natural landscape, and fresh air in the immediate vicinity. Passages bloom, carry, decay as they do amid an acoustically optimized environment. Soundstages extend far, wide, and deep, with black backgrounds and pinpoint images adding to the realism.

The reference-grade immediacy, airiness, and presence put in transparent perspective Mitchell’s dense strings of words, stream-of-conscious-like phrasing, and unhurried albeit forward momentum. Likewise, the instrumental contributions of her A-list support musicians — a cast that includes L.A. Express members John Guerin, Max Bennett and Tom Scott, plus Neil Young, Victor Feldman, and Abe Most — emerges with breathtaking clarity and dimensionality.

While Mitchell, whose intimate vocals and abstract guitar parts center everything, Mobile Fidelity's restoration of Hejira further reveals the visionary breadth of guitarist Larry Carlton and bassist Jaco Pastorius. Though heard on only four tracks, Pastorius' fretless bass epitomizes the fluid, subtle, flexible, roomy, and shape-shifting characteristics of songs that often appear to transpire out of nowhere akin to the formation of a puffy cumulus cloud overhead. In sync with Mitchell’s voice, Pastorius’ fusion hovers and floats, suspended in a fog you want to deeply inhale. The "grace notes" Mitchell desired on Hejira can now be heard in full. Ditto the luxurious tapestries of alinear lines, fills, and supplements unreeled on Carlton’s six-string.

Visually, the packaging of this UD1S set complements its identity as the copy to own. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, the LPs come in foil-stamped jackets with faithful-to-the-original graphics. This version is for listeners who desire to become immersed in everything about Hejira, including the unforgettable album cover — a pastiche of 14 different photos Mitchell used a Camera Lucida to assemble into one image that’s anchored by a portrait of her in a stoic pose — and the interior shots of Mitchell skating on a frozen Wisconsin lake wearing a pair of black skates, black shirt, and fur cape.

The notion of skating, feeling an awakening wind whipping against your face, and losing yourself to the surroundings are extremely apt for Hejira, which Mitchell wrote after a sequence of trips and relationships prompted her to reflect on the complicated conflicts between independence and marriage, success and satisfaction, duty and desire — and, more specifically, “the cost of being a woman.” The Canadian native delved into such themes before. But never as she does on Hejira, whose liberating, running-away aura doubles as another of Mitchell’s rejections of tradition as well as a suggestion of a better alternative.

At once observational and personal, expansive and insular, cheerful and poignant, Hejira spans a sea of human conditions, emotions, and circumstances. It addresses drifting, isolation, pleasure, place, time, and surroundings with strikingly poetic discourse matched with music that, save for the crooned ballad “Blue Motel Room,” forgoes conventional structures and choruses.

The jazz-based arrangements, marked by scaled-down percussion and all manner of bent, rounded, and unsettled notes, hint that Mitchell has no exact destination in mind. Excursions such as the moody “Furry Sings the Blues,” funky “Coyote” and edgy “Black Crow” throw open previously locked doors to possibility and journey. They signal it’s time for a welcome departure from norms and the past, one that leads to a heightened sense of clarity and perspective. Or, as Mitchell said upon choosing the album title, it’s time for “leaving the dream, no blame.”

When you’re immersed into something you never actually realize if the essence will project as bright as the efforts, as deep as the process and as loud as the intentions. WOW, the Roma Est duo of China and Leo Non, have never had to create magic or delve into mystique along their meandering path, it’s just been a long solemn wait for what life throws at them and actually sticks. Cause and reaction, because the essence is quietly there when the clamour fades away. Their new album ‘Rosa di Luce’ is as pure as they come, a crystalline documentation of a new family, new meanings and new languages where the only rule is to gently adapt and just let things flow.

Welcoming Mina Wow, a tiny creature, into the fold was never going to be easy for a life lead on the road and for a band as radical as WOW where nothing is sugar-coated or constructed behind the scene, a different approach was desperately wanted, needed and searched. Almost total disarm, doing the small things, undress, get rid of the unnecessary feedback. That’s why ‘Rosa di Luce’ more than ever showcases WOW’s other-worldy spectral capability of creating songs that contain immense and minimal emotions, raw but welcoming, sincere but cutting and could play out to be a career defining album. Loosely recorded between their house in Rome and a campsite in Southern Puglia (where WOW organizes their yearly Shawala Festival) these songs are masqued my a minimalist entendre that leaves space for China’s stellar vocal delivery, a haunted range with frequencies to tickle a soul and pierce hearts, with Leo’s resolute guitar playing leading a timeless revolution.

The center-piece ‘Le Montagne E Noi’ is a perfect example of their stripped-back nakedness hiding complex arrangements (the beautiful sax played by Ryan Spring Dooley and celestial flutes by Alessandra Lazzarini) that sound effortless and imperative. Spiritual orchestrations that match our times and most importantly their new family and definition of space. Peaks that can always be reached, forests that need crossing (La Radura) in order to find a sound. There is no pretension or conceit to WOW’s style, it is entrancingly vibrant yet melancholy, taking notes from the most visceral strand of Italian traditional music, yet, still, walking down a trail that is very much their own. A planet where Branko Mataja and Alice Coltrane are backed by Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru and Mina on a perennial quest for the ethereal. Music to remember the essence, this is what we are, like the ocean. “

Sneaker Social Club is pleased to direct your attention to this sparse and weighty club gear incoming from a sizeable new talent on the scene, Beton Brut.

Following on from his previous drops on Plasma Sources and Coyote Records, Beton Brut steps onto this latest platter with a surefooted sound. It’s informed by weightless grime, minimal techno and brittle electro, but he carves his own incisive path towards the hoods-up-heads-down Dancefloor.

This is stark, moody gear to get lost in — the dexterous sound design slipping around the rhythm core of ‘Tobacco Earthworm’; gleams in high-definition, but never at the expense of the eerily stripped-back atmosphere. ‘Booters’ snips up a clutch of clippings from grime and scatters them across the timeline in a scrapbook style, making a deadly, dislocated love letter to the sound in the process. Approaching mutant, hybrid club music with a considered poise, this is exactly the kind of forward-thinking bassweight gear that Sneaker thrives on.

When Alanis Morissette took direct aim at an ex who wronged her on the eviscerating “You Oughta Know” in 1995, everything about the Top 10 song communicated it wasn’t the usual narrative about love gone south. Or the typical wounded singer wallowing in self pity. Morissette, and both the lead single from and her entire American major-label debut — the profoundly personal Jagged Little Pill — represented a sea change. They kickstarted a movement, one whose impact continues to echo throughout the mainstream nearly three decades later.

Ranked the 69th Greatest Album of All Time by Rolling Stone, included on the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s list of 200 Definitive Albums, and featured in several books about essential albums, Jagged Little Pill remains more than a blockbuster that has sold more than 17 million copies in the U.S. and 33 million units worldwide. It’s a statement, an attitude, a soundtrack for anyone seeking inspiration, an outlet, or permission to be themselves.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 4,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity’s UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP box set of Jagged Little Pill presents the landmark effort in audiophile-grade sound for the first time. A key part of the record’s appeal and accessibility — Glen Ballard’s smooth production, touches that help Morissette’s exposed-nerve fare seem more accessible and melodic — comes through on this special 30th anniversary edition with an openness, presence, and dynamic explosiveness that make the vocalist’s songs that much more real and visceral.

The singer’s distinctive mezzo-soprano deliveries — the octave-rippling highs, dark-hued lows, dramatic crescendos, belted choruses, wispy reflections, occasional yodels — resonate with full-range ardor and depth. As crucial as anything on the record, Morissette’s confessional words take center stage like never before. Ditto the instrumentation and atmospherics that form the magnetic backgrounds of the songs. Key in on the contributions from Red Hot Chili Peppers Dave Navarro and Flea on “You Oughta Know” to Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers' co-founder Benmont Tench’s organ playing on six tracks.

The deluxe packaging of Mobile Fidelity’s Jagged Little Pill UD1S set underscores the work’s distinguished status. Housed in a slipcase, the LPs come in special foil-stamped jackets with faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. Benefitting from an ultra-low noise floor, superior groove definition, and dead-quiet surfaces, this UD1S reissue is for listeners who prize sound quality and desire to engage themselves in everything involved with the album, including the now-iconic cover art that juxtaposes two portraits of the then-21-year-old singer-songwriter and features typewriter font.

That script — which suggests a raw, blood-on-the-floor document created without modern aids like spell check or language correction — hints at the heightened level of unvarnished intimacy, honesty, and catharsis Morissette offers throughout Jagged Little Pill. Named after a phrase uttered on the astute “You Learn,” the album explores the frank emotions, inherent contradictions, and wishful desires people feel everyday but are often too afraid to express. Morissette displays no such fear or shyness.

Akin to a woman reading from a diary, Morissette leaves nothing to the imagination as she skewers hypocrisy during the poignant “Forgiven,” seeks recompense on the vengeful “You Oughta Know,” and spills her guts on the soul-purging “All I Really Want.” For all the anger and bile ascribed to the singer and record, Jagged Little Pill is incredibly healthy and upbeat. Morissette uses the catchy pop-rock frameworks and moody ambience to suss out situations, to learn, to give hope. There’s the clever yearning of “Hand in My Pocket”; wry contrarianism of “Ironic”; kind-heartedness of “Hand over Feet”; the live-and-let-live spirit of “You Learn” – all positive and amiable.

Throughout Jagged Little Pill, the ever-approachable Morissette connects with listeners who recognize themselves in her — and has an intelligent conversation with anyone who wants to participate. It seemed almost everyone did. In addition to the mammoth sales that make the effort the 17th-best-selling album in American history, Jagged Little Pill collected four Grammy Awards, two American Music Awards, three Billboard Music Awards, and eight Juno Awards. In 2018, the record became the basis for a musical that netted 15 Tony nominations on Broadway.

Ironic? Anything but. Jagged Little Pill transcends generations, gender, and trends. As Morissette sings on the opening “All I Really Want,”, the album represents “deliverance” — “a place to find common ground.”

“We go through life. We shed our skins. We become ourselves.”

This line from Patti Smith was going round and round Felix Manuel’s head as he gradually constructed Under Tangled Silence, his first album in six years and a record of a literal creative rebirth. Felix originally began it in earnest in 2020 Covid lockdown, but a catastrophic hard-drive meltdown destroyed almost all his work and sent him close to psychic collapse himself. However, ultimately this pushed him to rebuild from scratch and in so doing to confront and reassess every part of his musical and psychological processes.

The result is utterly extraordinary. Felix was a child prodigy as an instrumentalist and his advanced musicality has always been prominent in his music, but here he has put himself front and centre as pianist, harpist and more. And this sense of exposure as a performer interweaves with an unflinching emotional openness too. Where sometimes electronic production as advanced as this can use intellect and techniques as shields from soul-baring, this is the sound of someone who can boldly say “I feel things, I cry all the time, and I'm not afraid to say it or show it in the music.”

But this doesn’t mean there’s a move away from the soundsystems and dancefloors where Felix made his name as a uniquely innovative vinyl DJ. Even just in the opening track “A Tune for Us”, minimalist piano ripples and jazz drumming flow into the breaks of vintage jungle – and as the structure of the LP unfolds, a deep ambient meditation like “Hold” can sit very naturally in between the futurist dancehall of “L’Ancienne” and the high-definition acid house mind movie of “Galaxy in Silence”. In fact, as with the hands-on musicianship, that gutsy big-speaker electronic impact is delivered with more certainty, more expertise, more personal flourishes than ever. And all of those elements are more integrated than ever too: the sound of a total musical personality emerging afresh is truly something to behold. An already remarkable talent has been refreshed, reborn and is making the music of his life.

Sneaker Social Club welcome a veritable supergroup of bass heavyweights in the form of Legion. Made up of Trends, Boylan, P Jam and D.O.K., this four strong collective first came to light with the We Are Many 12" on Artikal Music in 2021, and now they regroup for another four-strong payload of soundsystem pressure that embraces the darkness in devastating fashion.

The Sister Abigail EP leads with 'Rastaman', an ice-cold half-step drop that summons the spirit of early dubstep in its raw minimalism, eerie atmospherics and snarling low-end wobble. Without an ounce of fat, it's a lean workout of drums and bass that finds catharsis in simplicity without compromising on high definition detail. 'Souls' locks into a jerky groove to set the dance off at acute angles, nudging the textures up a notch without disturbing the spartan mood of the release. 'Sister Abigail' pushes the underlying malevolence of the Legion sound to the forefront with dissonant sheet-metal tones while packing the rhythm section into a tight, vicious formation of gnashing, chrome-plated teeth. 'Play That Vibe' seals the deal on the EP with a hard-thumping, propulsive groove that calls to mind the techy development of dubstep in the 2010s — a taut, tracky throwdown to keep the intensity on a rolling boil.

Drawing on the grounding principles of OG dubstep with a sharp line in crisp, modernist production and a ruthless economy of arrangement on display, Legion prove many cooks can still result in a potent, brutally focused broth.

Carrying on from recent archival releases from masters of Indian classical tradition such as Kamalesh Maitra and the Dagar Brothers, Black Truffle is pleased to present a previously unheard recording of a concert by Pakistani vocalist Salamat Ali Khan. Born to a musician family in Hoshiarpur in the northwestern state of Punjab, Khan moved with his family to Lahore in Pakistan after the 1947 partition of India, becoming a child musical prodigy. Khan was a master of the kyhal form of Hindustani classical vocal music, a style integrating influences from Middle Eastern musical traditions that gives the singer a great deal of improvisational freedom. Travelling widely across the globe from the 1960s until his death in 2001, Khan approached ragas performed in the kyhal style as expressive forums for risk-taking improvisation, enlivened by ceaseless ornamental invention.

This remarkable recording was captured by Michael Hönig (of krautrock legends Agitation Free) in concert at Berlin’s Neue Nationalgalerie as part of the MetaMusik festival in 1974 (which also featured Nico, Tangerine Dream, and Roberto Laneri’s Prima Materia, among many others). Khan, who is also heard accompanying himself on a specially tuned alpine zither (in place of the traditional swarmandal, an Indian style of zither), is joined by Shaukat Hussein Khan on tabla and Hussein Bux Khan on harmonium. The lack of a familiar underlying tanpura drone gives this performance a weightless, floating quality, with all three of the musicians playing masterfully with the interaction between silence and the pulse propelling each section of the raag.

As Khan explains in his opening remarks, this performance of the rainy season Raag Megh is divided into three parts, each with its own tempo and rhythmic scheme (tala). The opening vilambit, in a twelve-beat tala, stretches out for over twenty minutes, lingering for a long time in a space of meditative calm, Khan lightly strumming the zither while exploring the lower end of his range in languorously extended notes. Virtuoso tabla interjections at first barely state the tempo, and the interplay between musicians is so spacious that we hear scraps of audience noise and the squeak of the harmonium’s mechanism in between the notes. Gradually picking up rhythmic definition and melodic complexity, after around fifteen minutes the music builds dramatically, with Khan letting out emotive yelps and swooping scalar shapes ranging across his full vocal range. This flows seamlessly into the following jhaptal, at a faster tempo in ten beats, which then makes way for the concluding teental, very fast in sixteen beats, which becomes a frantic improvisational exchange of daring rhythmic disruptions from the tabla, flowing harmonium melodies, and a stunning variety of vocal approaches from Khan, ranging from rapid-fire staccato consonants to guttural growls.

Accompanied by stunning black and white concert photographs, the LP also contains a moving and entertaining recollection from acclaimed German musicologist Peter Pannke, looking back on his experience assisting Khan and his musicians in Berlin at the Metamusik festival (including a mouth-watering description of a feast cooked by the maestro himself). As Pannke describes in his account of attending the concert, the beauty and spiritual intensity of this music leaves the listener speechless.

The Understated Debut That Launched a Peerless Career: Bob Dylan Is the Clearest Connection to the Singer-Songwriter's Folk Roots
Pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl for Reference Playback: Mobile Fidelity 33RPM SuperVinyl Mono LP Features the Direct Sound Dylan Intended

1/4" / 15 IPS analogue mono master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Bob Dylan's self-titled 1962 debut is as understated of an entrance as any significant musician as ever made. Well-versed in American roots music, Dylan simultaneously pays homage to tradition and extends it by putting his own stamp on classic material that metaphorically functions as the soil of contemporary songs and styles. Free of ego, and performed with masterful conviction, Bob Dylan ranks with the initial efforts of giants like Elvis Presley and the Rolling Stones.

Nodding to Woody Guthrie and re-imagining Blind Lemon Jefferson's "See That My Grave Is Kept Clean," Dylan straddles the past and future. He authoritatively displays the ability to handle weighty topics such as death, sorrow, and lamentation with the vaudeville flair, bluesy mannerisms, and poignant command of an artist three times his then-20-year-old age.

Sourced from the original master tapes, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity's numbered-edition 180g 33RPM mono SuperVinyl LP brings the contents of this seminal release as close as they've ever come to live-in-the-studio quality. Transparent to the source, Dylan's voice, acoustic guitar, and harmonica come across with exceptional realism — the "husk and bark" to which Robert Shelton referred in his legendary New York Times review of a Dylan appearance at Gerde's Folk City — courtesy of the format’s nearly non-existent noise floor, groove definition, and quiet surfaces.

Heard in the original mono configuration, Dylan’s vocals are in the heart of the musical action and as one with the accompaniment. This reissue paints an incredibly accurate portrait of the concrete mass of sound that features no artificial panning and offers a straight-ahead immersion into the music producer John Hammond recorded in just two days in November 1961.

Though much has been made of the commercial indifference that greeted the album upon its low-key release, focusing on sales figures and the reaction of a public not yet hip to Dylan's name miss the forest for the trees. Distinguished from the era's other folk efforts by way of the singer-songwriter’s determination, brazenness, and lived-through-this worldliness, Bob Dylan lays the groundwork for the path he'd soon trailblaze and everyone else would follow.

As Dylan scholar and pop-culture critic Greil Marcus observed in 2010: "Everybody knew Joan Baez and the Kingston Trio; if you knew Bob Dylan, you knew something other people didn't, something that soon enough everybody had to know. Within a year, an album could put an adjective in front of the singer's name as if it were already common coin."

Mono is how almost everyone first heard Dylan’s opening salvo. A career like none other starts here.

MoFi SuperVinyl:

Developed by NEOTECH and RTI, MoFi SuperVinyl is the most exacting-to-specification vinyl compound ever devised. Analog lovers have never seen (or heard) anything like it. Extraordinarily expensive and extremely painstaking to produce, the special proprietary compound addresses two specific areas of improvement: noise floor reduction and enhanced groove definition. The vinyl composition features a new carbonless dye (hold the disc up to the light and see) and produces the world's quietest surfaces. This high-definition formula also allows for the creation of cleaner grooves that are virtually indistinguishable from the original lacquer. MoFi SuperVinyl provides the closest approximation of what the label's engineers hear in the mastering lab.

SoiSong ist das helle, atemberaubende und kurzlebige Projekt, das 2007 von Ivan Pavlov (CoH) und Peter ,Sleazy" Christopherson (von Coil) gegründet wurde. Das Duo kombinierte Pavlovs kompromisslos visuelle digitale Ästhetik mit Sleazys dekadenter, düsterer und skurriler Herangehensweise an die Kreation. Die beiden benannten das Projekt nach dem thailändischen Wort für `zwei' (Song) sowie nach den schäbigen Rotlichtvierteln ("düstere Soi / Gasse") von Bangkok. Gemeinsam entwickelten sie eine einzigartige, elegante, aber eher kryptische Musiksprache. Das Debütalbum "xAj3z" von SoiSong ist eine digitale Referenz an den Jazz: scheinbar akustische, überschäumende, Grenzen sprengende, digitale Unterhaltung, in der Lichtstrahlen und tropische Hitze mit Nullen und Einsen unterlegt sind. Das Album ist ein definierendes Statement und ein Wegweiser für die Möglichkeiten in der (damals) entstehenden Musiklandschaft der späten 2000er. Ohne den Wunsch, kommerziell zu sein, war SoiSong nicht an die Konventionen einer einfach zu definierenden Verschlagwortung verpflichtet, und in ihrem eigenen, ,neuen, noch nicht kategorisierbaren Genre", wobei "xAj3z" ein Meisterwerk ist. "xAj3z" mischt frei Musikstile und kombiniert verschiedene Ansätze des Musizierens: Künstliche Vokalisten werden von echten Drums begleitet, Jazz-Noir-Arrangements treffen auf die zarte Melodik der Südsee, und Computer werden warm und organisch zum Klingen gebracht. Das Album zeigt keine offensichtliche Genre-Definition und zielt darauf ab, mit dem Hörer auf höchster emotionaler Intensität zu kommunizieren, oft lyrisch, manchmal dunkel, manchmal amüsant und sogar erhebend.

SoiSong ist das helle, atemberaubende und kurzlebige Projekt, das 2007 von Ivan Pavlov (CoH) und Peter ,Sleazy" Christopherson (von Coil) gegründet wurde. Das Duo kombinierte Pavlovs kompromisslos visuelle digitale Ästhetik mit Sleazys dekadenter, düsterer und skurriler Herangehensweise an die Kreation. Die beiden benannten das Projekt nach dem thailändischen Wort für `zwei' (Song) sowie nach den schäbigen Rotlichtvierteln ("düstere Soi / Gasse") von Bangkok. Gemeinsam entwickelten sie eine einzigartige, elegante, aber eher kryptische Musiksprache. Das Debütalbum "xAj3z" von SoiSong ist eine digitale Referenz an den Jazz: scheinbar akustische, überschäumende, Grenzen sprengende, digitale Unterhaltung, in der Lichtstrahlen und tropische Hitze mit Nullen und Einsen unterlegt sind. Das Album ist ein definierendes Statement und ein Wegweiser für die Möglichkeiten in der (damals) entstehenden Musiklandschaft der späten 2000er. Ohne den Wunsch, kommerziell zu sein, war SoiSong nicht an die Konventionen einer einfach zu definierenden Verschlagwortung verpflichtet, und in ihrem eigenen, ,neuen, noch nicht kategorisierbaren Genre", wobei "xAj3z" ein Meisterwerk ist. "xAj3z" mischt frei Musikstile und kombiniert verschiedene Ansätze des Musizierens: Künstliche Vokalisten werden von echten Drums begleitet, Jazz-Noir-Arrangements treffen auf die zarte Melodik der Südsee, und Computer werden warm und organisch zum Klingen gebracht. Das Album zeigt keine offensichtliche Genre-Definition und zielt darauf ab, mit dem Hörer auf höchster emotionaler Intensität zu kommunizieren, oft lyrisch, manchmal dunkel, manchmal amüsant und sogar erhebend.

Brooklyn-based musician and producer Eliot Lipp has spent the last two decades crafting a signature sound that fuses hip-hop, synthwave, glitch, and electro. His breakthrough came in 2004 when Prefuse 73 released his debut album on Eastern Developments, a then-subsidiary of Warp Records. Since then, he has built an extensive discography across influential independent labels like Hefty Records, Mush Records, Pretty Lights Music, Young Heavy Souls, and his own Old Tacoma Records. Lipp's music, described by Billboard as "funky and experimental, crunchy and distorted, romantic, thoughtful, and all around playful," blends vintage and modern influences, with Kaltblut Magazine noting his inspiration from "sci-fi soundtracks and '70s and BDs funk" to create "weird, high-definition, melodic beats." His work has been featured by Bandcamp, Magnetic, XLR8R, and major radio stations like BBC Radio 6, KEXP, and KCRW. A seasoned performer, Lipp has toured extensively for over 15 years, playing in cities like New York, Los Angeles, Seattle, and Denver, as well as major festivals such as Electric Forest, Forecastle, and SXSW. With a career rooted in both classic beat-making and forward-thinking electronic production, Eliot Lipp remains a vital force in the independent music scene.

On his first release with Bastard Jazz, veteran Brooklyn producer Eliot Lipp delivers Kona, a bright blend of guitar samples, breakbeats, and his signature Korg MS-20 synth lines, evoking the feeling of kicking back on a beach at sunset. The beat hits hard from the start, but as the track unfolds, it eases into a more laid-back, summery vibe. Lipp's signature fusion of retro synth textures and crisp modern rhythms shines through, capturing an effortless, sun-soaked energy perfect for a night drive or a rooftop party. The B-side, Silver Bass, takes a different approach—starting with live drums, electric bass, and a groovy guitar and piano arrangement before morphing into a futuristic, digitally sequenced version of itself. With dueling saxophone and Moog melodies weaving between organic and electronic elements, the track transforms into a breezy electro jam that feels both nostalgic and forward-thinking, solidifying Lipp's ability to craft timeless, genre-blending sounds.

Ein Album zum Schlafen und Wachen, zum Gehen und Fahren, zum Jagen und Fischen, zum Herumlungern vor einer Raststätte in der verwunschenen Tundra. In Fahrstühlen okay, zum Abendessen nicht so toll. Auf Caveman Wakes Up, dem neuen Album von Friendship und ihrem zweiten für Merge Records, wird die historisch weit gefasste Definition von Country-Musik noch weiter gefasst. Shambolische Gitarren werden durch Flötenpads ausgeglichen, trübe Poesie trifft auf eine Motown-Rhythmusgruppe, ein Song über Jerry Garcia und die First Lady Betty Ford wird mit einem Schlagzeugsolo ausgeblendet, als käme Talk Talk aus einem schmuddeligen Keller in Philadelphia und würde von James Tate gespielt. Der zerklüftete Bariton des Songwriters Dan Wriggins schneidet durch elf düstere, wirbelnde Country-Rock-Songs mit tiefgründiger lyrischer Substanz und Aufrichtigkeit. Wie ein Wecker, der am Rande eines Traums eingebaut ist, gehört "Caveman Wakes Up" gleichermaßen zum bewussten und zum unterbewussten Verstand, voller Hintergründe, durchdrungen von Referenzen und Experimenten, beiläufig und als düstere Warnung vorgetragen und vor allem der kreativen Seele der Musik gewidmet. Im Laufe der Jahre hat sich diese Hingabe ausgezahlt. Friendship ist zu einer Art umgekehrter Supergroup geworden, in der die Band selbst und jedes einzelne Mitglied im Zentrum einer zunehmend prominenten Szene junger Folk- und Country-Musiker und Songwriter steht. Der Schlagzeuger Michael Cormier O'Leary leitet das Instrumentalkollektiv Hour und betreibt zusammen mit dem Bassisten Jon Samuels das Label Dear Life Records, das Freunde und Kollegen beherbergt, die Friendship zu einem wichtigen Einfluss zählen, darunter MJ Lenderman, Florry, und Fust. (Samuels spielt auch die Leadgitarre bei MJ Lenderman and the Wind). Die Band 2nd Grade des Gitarristen Peter Gill ist ebenfalls aktiv und macht zahlreiche Aufnahmen. Wriggins begann mit dem Schreiben der Songs von "Caveman Wakes Up" auf einer verstimmten klassischen Gitarre von Lenderman und beendete es auf einem kaum gestimmten Klavier in einer Wohnung, die er mit G DeGroot von Sadurn teilte. Im Sommer 2023 hatte Wriggins gerade den Iowa Writers' Workshop verlassen, wo seine Liebe zur Poesie und sein Misstrauen gegenüber der akademischen Poesiewelt gleichzeitig wuchsen. Eine Beziehung ging in die Brüche, und Wriggins übernachtete mehrere Wochen in North Carolina im Haus von Lenderman und Karly Hartzman (von Wednesday ), wo er die ersten Demos von "Resident Evil", "All Over the World" und "Love Vape" aufnahm. Wriggins kehrte nach Philadelphia zurück, und die Band machte sich an die Arbeit, um neue Ideen zu entwickeln. Schließlich nahmen sie das Album in fünf Tagen mit Tontechniker Jeff Ziegler (Mary Lattimore, War On Drugs) auf, den Gesang mit Bradford Kreiger, dem Techniker von Love the Stranger. Orgel, Geige (Jason Calhoun) und Flöte (Adelyn Strei) wurden von Lucas Knapp in einer Kirche in West Philadelphia aufgenommen. Textlich bewegt sich "Caveman Wakes Up" auf vertrautem Friendship Terrain - das Heilige wird profaniert und das Profane geheiligt. "Caveman Wakes Up" zeigt Friendships besonderes Genie für visionäre Arrangements, die über Generationen hinweg dem Folk-Rock-Kanon von Neil Young, Joni Mitchell und Emmylou Harris ebenso verpflichtet sind wie Indie-Größen wie Yo La Tengo und den Merge-Labelkollegen Lambchop oder Zeitgenossen wie Lomelda und ML Buch. Mehrere der Songs verwenden Fade-Outs, die im Text von "Love Vape" scherzhaft erwähnt werden, und es gibt andere Elemente, die von Motown und 70er-Jahre-Balladen übernommen wurden: festgefahrene Schlagzeugmuster, Bassintervalle, gefühlvolle Streicherarrangements. Jede Referenz wird über das Genre hinausgeschoben, verwirbelt und wiederholt, zu etwas Neuem, das eindeutig zum Friendship-Sound gehört. Bei "Free Association", "Artex" und "Wildwood in January" ist der Groove so festgelegt, dass andere Klänge nahtlos kommen und gehen können: Mellotron-Flächen, Klavierwirbel und -stiche und klare Gitarrenmelodien, wimmelnde Texturen, die sich als Einheit tarnen. "Caveman Wakes Up" das bisher am weitesten fortgeschrittene Werk von Friendship, ein weiterer Beweis für die Hingabe und Sorgfalt der Band.

An album for sleeping and waking, walking and driving, hunting and fishing, for loitering outside a roadhouse on the haunted tundra. Okay in elevators, not great for dinner. On Caveman Wakes Up, Friendship’s new album and second for Merge Records, the band’s historically capacious definition of country music grows wider still. Shambolic guitars are offset by flute pads, bleary poetry is set against a Motown rhythm section, a song about Jerry Garcia and First Lady Betty Ford fades out with a drum solo, like if Talk Talk came from a dingy Philadelphia basement and was fronted by James Tate. Songwriter Dan Wriggins’ ragged baritone cuts through eleven murky, swirling country-rock songs with profound lyrical substance and sincerity. Like an alarm clock incorporated into the edge of a dream, Caveman Wakes Up belongs equally to the conscious and subconscious mind, fraught with background, steeped in reference and experimentation, delivered casually and as a dire warning, dedicated, above all, to music’s creative soul. Over the years, dedication has paid off. Friendship has become a kind of reverse supergroup,
wherein the band itself and each individual member are located centrally in an increasingly prominent scene of young folk and country musicians and songwriters. Drummer Michael Cormier O’Leary leads the instrumental collective Hour and, along with bassist Jon Samuels, runs Dear Life Records, home to friends and peers who count Friendship as a major influence including MJ Lenderman, Florry, and Fust. (Samuels also plays lead guitar in MJ Lenderman and the Wind). Guitarist Peter Gill’s band 2nd Grade records prolifically. Wriggins began writing the songs of Caveman Wakes Up on a downtuned classical guitar of Lenderman’s and finished on a barely tuned piano in an apartment he shared with Sadurn’s G DeGroot.
In the summer of 2023, Wriggins had just left the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, where his love for poetry and mistrust for the academic poetry world grew in tandem. A relationship fell apart, and Wriggins crashed for several weeks at Lenderman and Wednesday’s Karly Hartzman’s home in North Carolina, where he recorded the first demos of “Resident Evil,” “All Over the World,” and “Love Vape.” Wriggins returned to Philadelphia, and the band got to work on new ideas, finally tracking the album in five days with engineer Jeff Ziegler (Mary Lattimore, War on Drugs). Wriggins recorded vocals with Love the Stranger engineer Bradford Kreiger, and organ, violin (Jason Calhoun), and flute (Adelyn Strei) were recorded by Lucas Knapp in a West Philadelphia church.

Since 2021, FLUPKE counts nine releases, seven self-made music videos, a video game, many stages set on fire, collaborations and remixes with Vonfelt, Émile Londonien, Ouai Stéphane, DJ Earl, amongst others. Time has come for FLUPKE to compile the best of his colorful and pixelated universe on solid wax. LE BEST OF is a manifesto of the French producer’s duality between high and low resolutions, crunchy and textured sounds, that has been fueling his spaceship to explore cosmic and electronic soundscapes.

Dateline: April 10, 1970. Setting: The storied Fillmore West in San Francisco, CA. Context: Miles Davis, three days removed from his first session for Jack Johnson and, with newly recruited soprano saxophonist Steve Grossman in tow, opening shows for countercultural heroes the Grateful Dead on the latter’s home turf. Result: The initial rumblings of a thrilling era in which Davis and his cohorts would again upend jazz and popular conceptions of the genre with music steeped in groove, improvisation, and hang-on-for-your-life adventurousness. All captured on Black Beauty: Miles Davis at Fillmore West.

Mastered at MoFi’s California studio, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity's numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set helps bring what went down that spring evening in Bill Graham’s venue to your listening room with exceptional clarity, balance, and presence. Originally only released in Japan in 1973 and unavailable in the United States until the late ‘90s on compact disc, this marks the first time Black Beauty has been issued on domestic vinyl. The wait is worth it.

Benefitting from quiet surfaces and excellent definition, these LPs present the band’s livewire energy and torrential storm of notes with captivating dynamics, pacing, and fullness. At its core, this audiophile reissue takes you into the walls of sound erected by a band learning on-the-fly the sheer power, will, and breadth of the electric jazz Davis was orchestrating and realizing, on the spot, would reach rock audiences that until that point had only a faint awareness of his mad-scientist experimentation. The sense of release and reach conveyed by these carefully restored records make it clear the veteran bandleader was in the process of a permanent shift that he’d chase for the next five years.

Given Davis was only a few months away from releasing the pioneering double album Bitches Brew, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that much of the fare here adheres to similar explorative approaches. Turbulent rhythms, provocative trumpet passages, and rich, saturated tonal colors that seemingly splash against a blank canvas take precedence over any traditional attempts at organization and melody. Davis and Co. intentionally play everything on a line with the bandleader signaling changes with his horn via coded phrases. The group speaks a common language — with each member having gone to achieve iconic status for their career contributions and technical prowess.

In the company of Grossman, Chick Corea (piano), Dave Holland (bass), Jack DeJohnette (drums), and Airto Moreira (percussion), Davis constructs themes around “Directions,” “Miles Runs the Voodoo Down,” “It’s About That Time,” the title track to Bitches Brew, and more from his then most-recent studio works and the in-progress Jack Johnson. His farewell to the popular standards that for nearly two decades remained a part of his repertoire arrive via a brief dalliance with “I Fall in Love Too Easily,” a shortened albeit aggressive “Masqualero,” and the “Theme” finale of “Spanish Key.” Initially, Black Beauty lacked specific track listings due to Davis’ increasing frustration with listeners over-analyzing his music.

In retrospect, it’s difficult to blame anyone for wanting to view what’s on display here with the aural equivalent of a magnifying glass. Leaning in rock directions, yet maintaining an ear for spaciousness and solos, Black Beauty survives as a snapshot of a thrilling moment amid a transitory period in which evolution came fast and furious. Just two months later, Davis would add another instrumentalist to the lineup in the form of organist Keith Jarrett, and the perpetually restless visionary would blast off to a more atmospheric and arguably more chaotic universe.

Consider, then, this live document a bridge to that galaxy and a breathtaking example of the possibilities of jazz itself.

Listen to This.” As the original working title for Bitches Brew, the instruction and invitation remains to this day as the best way to approach a record that shattered conventions, altered music history, and, 55 years later, still sounds far ahead of its time. The template for jazz fusion, Bitches Brew is rightly ranked by virtually every significant outlet among the 100 greatest albums ever made. Sewn together with vibrant colors, voodoo textures, and ethereal moods, the 1970 landmark emerges with supreme detail and nonpareil feeling on Mobile Fidelity’s UltraDisc One-Step 180g 33RPM 2LP vinyl set.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, this definitive-sounding 55th anniversary reissue enhances every element of a double album that established new possibilities for studio recording techniques. You’ll hear wide and deep soundstages, separation between instruments, and an extremely broad dynamic range. If ever a jazz album can be said to have gone to outer space and back, this is it.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, this definitive-sounding 55th anniversary reissue enhances every element of a double album that established new possibilities for studio recording techniques. You’ll hear wide and deep soundstages, separation between instruments, and an extremely broad dynamic range. If ever a jazz album can be said to have gone to outer space and back, this is it.

Davis conceived Bitches Brew by having the musicians stand in a semi-circle. There, he pointed at them with vague directions for tempo, solos, and cues. The collective improvisation and interplay spawned a galaxy of melodies and grooves that were later spliced together by producer Ted Macero. Benefitting from the ultra-low noise floor and superb groove definition of this pressing, these distinct creations take shape with utmost realism. Compositions stretch across jet-black backgrounds and paint canvases laden with millions of colors and shades. Juxtaposed percussion, loose jams, and melodic segues explode with impressionistic verve.

Bitches Brew also boasts visionary artwork. By design, the lavish packaging and gorgeous presentation of the UD1S Bitches Brew set call attention to such matters. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. It is made for discerning listeners who desire to fully immerse themselves in everything surrounding the album, from the images to the tones. And this is one effort where every last detail matters.

Gathering a Hall of Fame-worthy lineup of musicians and tweaking it according to his desires, Davis follows through on his idea to “put together the greatest rock and roll band you ever heard.” Central to his proposition is the presence of two (and sometimes three) drummers and two bassists, a tactical move that makes rhythms a central focus. Akin to the futuristic album cover art, the drum-driven suites head toward distant universes and uncharted territories. At once hypnotizing and grooving, they chart maverick adventures via quixotic rock, funk, and R&B elements.

A without-a-net experiment involving interchangeable double-quintet lineups, Bitches Brew explores the previously unimaginable with electrified instruments — Fender Rhodes piano, processed trumpet, dissonant guitars, and bass among them — and an emphasis on feeling over composition. Mesmerizing and soothing, jarring and smooth, overt and subtle: The music seemingly covers an entire map of emotions and sensations, and like no record before, ties together the groundbreaking creativity of the multiple disciplines that were changing popular culture at the end of the 1960s and dawn of a new decade.

Conceptually, Davis described Bitches Brew as “a novel without words” and “an incredible journey of pain, joy, sorrow, hate, passion, and love.” The vast psychedelic expanses of warped echoes, liquid reverb, and tape loops confirm such ambitious contrasts of light and dark, fear and hope. Yet the most absolute characteristic of the watershed effort lies in how it resists definitive interpretation and encourages free thought — the very principles Davis used to conceive Bitches Brew.

More About Mobile Fidelity UltraDisc One-Step and Why It Is Superior
Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab’s UltraDisc One-Step (UD1S) technique bypasses generational losses inherent to the traditional three-step plating process by removing two steps: the production of father and mother plates, which are created to yield numerous stampers from each lacquer that is cut. For UD1S plating, stampers (also called “converts”) are made directly from the lacquers. Since each lacquer yields only one stamper, multiple lacquers need to be cut. Mobile Fidelity's UD1S process produces a final LP with the lowest-possible noise floor. The removal of two steps of the plating process also reveals musical details and dynamics that would otherwise be lost due to the standard multi-step process. With UD1S, every aspect of vinyl production is optimized to produce the best-sounding vinyl album available today.

Samurai Music returns to the evocative sound world of Ancestral Voices for an album that splits the difference between cinematic sound design and deadly restraint at 170 BPM. Nemeton continues Liam Blackburn's exploration of ancient Celtic mysticism through snaking rhythms and snarling sound design, conjuring a high-definition sonic image of sacred groves and the druids practicing amongst them.

Blackburn's Ancestral Voices project tracks back to 2015, when he debuted on Samurai Horo with the Night Of Visions album. In stark contrast to his celebrated 140 work as Indigo, this project leaned on the inspiration of pagan spirituality to charge his vivid, advanced production style with a rich and mysterious atmosphere. While he's channelled this approach into a variety of tempos and styles, on his 2016 EP Old Earth Voodoo on Samurai Music he applied the concept to a drum & bass framework, which he returns to on Nemeton with rigorous focus.

Far from a straightforward collection of breakbeat tracks, Blackburn uses negative space and pointillist production to carve out an immersive, tense sound world around the 170 grid. He takes a widescreen approach to percussion, running from pin-prick synthesised one-shots to tumbling, organic drums you'd more readily associate with a Hans Zimmer score. Scene-building is the foremost mission across Nemeton, casting otherworldly forces in sweeps of low-end friction and dramatic melodic blooms amidst tangible real-world field recordings of flora and fauna.

Casting the mind back some 2000 years is an exercise in imagination as much as research, and Blackburn ably summons dark fantasy as he delves ever deeper into Welsh mythology with a studious zeal and avid fascination. It's that drive that makes Nemeton burst forth and take shape so powerfully, bristling with kinetic energy and a barely-concealed, strangely seductive menace that leaves a lasting impression long after the last snatch of bass has bared its teeth.

Big new release by Peter Van Hoesen! Continuing his exploration of intricate techno systems, their effect and direct perimeter of action, Peter van Hoesen turns in his newest four-track piece, ‘Prime Directive’: a fascinating dive into the artist’s shape-shifting headspace and inner creative chaos.

Fuelled on a furnace-hot mix of abstract-leaning immersion and hi-octane rhythmic thrust, ‘Prime Directive’ looks at contemporary techno from the angle of experimentation and intuitive abandon. The result comes in the form of four distinct movements, each carving out their own logic and associated behaviour out an endless pool of potentialities. Here comes chaology unfolding in all its unadulterated, visceral glory.

‘Definition by Absence’ breaks the trip in to the sound of a faux-random symphony: its train-like swing and fiery bass seesaw coalesce through an elliptic fluttering of sorts, iterative and not, patterns moving in and out of synchronicity as van Hoesen applies more or less pressure on both ends. All in gusty in-your-face-ness, ‘Variables Edit 1’ whirls and swirls like an ominous vengeance of nature; Its puncturing kicks and whistling menace set against stellar winds and rabid machinery on the prowl for its next victim.

An even more unsettling piece of disjointedly arrhythmic, anti-club music for the dance floor, ‘Prime Directive’ will have you zoning out like a bad dream, flush with metronome-faced monsters and molten clocks hanging from dead trees. ‘Morphology’ could be PVH’s attempt at giving his concepts a carnal carcass to hold onto. Here, rhythm becomes somewhat less erratic, offering his 360-degree vision more melodic surface and actual room for dispersion. One to keep the boundaries pushed and status-quo challenged, this is techno at its most entrancingly bold and fearless.

*This new four-track epic from Peter van Hoesen comes draped in a fine piece of artwork courtesy of Atact, and pressed according to our standards in 180g audiophile quality so you get to experience the Belgian master's chiselled sound design in all its glory.

Konsudd finds the hyperkinetic Konduku teaming up with close pal Aa Sudd as they match subtlety with intensity. Their high-definition production leads on these spacious works of art, with dynamic layers of atmospherics punctured by dense kick drums. They take care to address soundsystem physicality, loading their kicks with irresistible subs down low and finely chiselling the double-time rhythms up top for an extra boost of energy.

Ingrid Schmoliner und Alex Kranabetter sind seit über einem Jahrzehnt tragende Säulen der improvisierten und experimentellen Musikszene in Österreich. Obwohl erstere vor allem als Pianistin und Sängerin und letzterer als Trompeter bekannt ist, verfügen beide über ein äußerst umfangreiches Klangspektrum. Schmolinger arbeitet konsequent mit der Klangregie, um lebendige psychoakustische und räumliche Effekte zu erzeugen, während Kranabetter regelmäßig Elektronik einsetzt, um seine Klangwelten in Solo- und Gemeinschaftskonstellationen radikal zu transformieren und zu erweitern. Vielleicht fängt kein anderes Projekt die ganze Pracht ihrer ästhetischen Tendenzen so ein wie ihr Duo ,drank", das im April 2025 sein herausragendes Debütalbum ,Breath in Definition" bei Trost veröffentlichen wird. Für drank scheint es keine Grenzen für Klanggebilde zu geben. Als Gäste mit dabei sind der bemerkenswerte Schlagzeuger Lukas König und die Sängerin Anja Franziska Plaschg (aka Soap&Skin). Ingrid Schmoliner: prepared piano Alexander Kranabetter: trumpet, electronics guest on GITTA - Lukas Koenig: marimba guest on BREATH IN DEFINITION - Anja Plaschg (Soap&Skin): voice

Entering its 26th year of activity, the morphing, Los Angeles based experimental outfit, Sissy Spacek, joins Shelter Press with Entrance, among the project's most captivating outings to date. Encountering the duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma joined in various configurations by an incredible cast of collaborators - Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, Ralf Wehowsky, and C Spencer Yeh - collectively transformed into a series a deeply intimate and delicate gestures of musique concrète, Entrance radically repositions the possibilities presented by group improvisation outside of time and place. Founded at the end of the last millennium, the Los Angeles based project, Sissy Spacek, initially emerged from the knotted, fiery context 1990s American noise and grindcore, producing sheets of visceral sonority that quickly set the scene on its head. Going through numerous evolutions, before eventually settling as a duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma - joined by a rotating and often recurring cast collaborators - over the last 25 years the band has continuously entered states of evolution that have defied the expectations of its own context, seeding the sonic extremes noise with subtle and sophisticated approaches to free improvisation and musique concrète. Fiercely positioning its efforts within the outer reaches of contemporary experimental music, while resisting the constraints of a singular sound or proximity, Wiese regards Sissy Spacek as being primarily centred around the practice of musique concrète and the pursuit of extremes. From its earliest releases - collage treatments of material gathered from the band's full throttle practice sessions - the project's conceptual framework has continuously evolved within a deeply engaged process of experimentation, not only reworking tactical approaches, but also definitions and perception regarding the location and action of their work. In recent years, this has led to an increasingly varied and diverse output. Percolating within, is a thread marked by a striking sense of delicacy and intimacy, driving forward while doubling as an unexpected challenge, in real time, to perceptions connected to the band's past. Entrance is the most recent of these. Embarking upon the four compositions that comprise the finalized four sides of Entrance, Wiese and Mumma enlisted longstanding collaborators, Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, and C Spencer Yeh, as well as new initiate, Ralf Wehowsky (of the seminal German electronic noise collective P16.D4), requesting a contribution of sounds from each, determined by a general set guidelines that dictated certain qualities the given sonorities, while allowing for the expression of each player's distinct creative voice. The sets of resulting recordings were then chopped, harvested, manipulated, and reassembled as the four tape compositions that make up the album - Web Of Unfolding Appearance, Figure Of Reflected Light, Trancher And The Inheritors, True Dimension (From The Opaque - Spike) - each blurring the lines of authorship and clear creative proximity in remarkable ways. Where historical gestures of musique concrète tend to draw upon non-instrumental sound sources - regarding its sonorous material as raw elements, unburdened by inherent meaning or association, to be transformed and imbued with musicality - Sissy Spacek turns this position on its head. Entrance comprises works of musique concrète that not only draw upon instrumental sound sources, with all their possible meanings or associations, but also individual characters and personalities of their players, crediting each resulting piece to its respective configuration of contributors. As such, Entrance is an effort of sound collage defined by a rare sense of intimacy and humanity: four pieces that often take on the resemblance of group improvisation, but have, in fact, been assembled outside of time and place. Bent under the ever-present hand of Wiese's tape treatments and manipulation, each of the album's four compositions unfurl startling states of sonic abstraction and percolating texture, marked by a striking sense of hard-shifting structure, that culminate as tense, driven manifestations of ambient music: scrapes, squeals, rattles feedback, rolling drums, bouncing tones, whispers, bent electronics, electric artefacts, and seemingly everything else under the sun, configured into immersive, sublime mediations in sound from the most improbable events.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

If every significant artist has an underrated gem in its catalog, then Mirage is that album for Fleetwood Mac. An obvious return to relative simplicity after the dramatic tension of Rumours and experimental ambitions of Tusk, the 1982 album finds the band re-grouping after a brief hiatus and again climbing to the top of the charts. Extremely well-crafted, well-produced, and well-performed, the double-platinum effort distills the group’s hallmark strengths into a filler-free set that never runs short of addictive pop hooks or daft accents.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents Mirage in reference sound for the first time. The efforts co-producers/engineers Ken Caillat and Richard Dashut went to capture the splintered albeit formidable band can be heard with stunning accuracy, range, depth, and detail.

Though Rumours understandably gets a permanent spot in the audiophile hall of fame, the smooth, clear, and dynamic sonics on Mirage confirm that the record that stood as Fleetwood Mac’s last effort for five years deserves a place in the same vaunted arena. The presence and imaging of Mick Fleetwood’s percussion alone on this reissue might have you wondering how this slice of soft-rock bliss has gone under-noticed for decades. Other prized aural aspects — separation, definition, impact, tonal balance — are also here in spades.

Like much surrounding Fleetwood Mac in the 1980s, arriving at Mirage was not easy. Caillat searched for studios located outside of Los Angeles on a mission to change up the vibe of the band’s prior recording sessions. Everyone settled on Le Chateau in France, where relations between some members remained icy — and cooperation with the producers strained. Battles with exhaustion, bitterness, and addiction further informed the proceedings at the 18th century complex in the French countryside, where even communal meals were allegedly eaten in silence.

Inevitably, the feelings that co-producer Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, and company harbored — as well as the situations in which they found themselves — drifted into the songwriting. In its rapid ascent to rock-star royalty status, Fleetwood Mac drifted apart, embarked on solo pursuits, and found it was lonely at the top. Emptiness, the illusion of dreams, the longing for love, the want to escape to bygone times of innocence and happiness: Such themes inform a majority of the narratives. Even if the lyrics regularly take a back seat to easygoing arrangements that allow Mirage to come on like a refreshing breeze on a sunny summer afternoon.

Home to three Top 25 singles in the U.S. and having occupied the pole position of the Top 200 album charts for five weeks, Mirage rightfully resonated with the mainstream and attracted listeners on both sides of the pond. And how, via a smart blend of sugary melodies, warm harmonies, interlaced notes, nimble rhythms, taut structures, and passionate vocals. Not to mention the presence of what arguably remains Nicks’ signature song, the biographical “Gypsy,” a meditation on the loss of her close friend Robin Anderson that teems with majesty, mystery, and mysticism — and which gets an assist from Buckingham’s shaded tack piano and richly strummed guitar chords.

Its ranking as an all-time classic aside, that No. 12 hit has plenty of company when it comes to brilliant pop turns on Mirage. On the subject of Nicks, the raspy singer gets a little bit country on “That’s Alright.” Its clip-clopping pace and two-stepping progression complement subtle vocal swells that emerge during the final verse of a tune that is ostensibly about leaving but still conveys forgiveness and grace. And what would a Fleetwood Mac record be without Nicks drawing on the tools of the supernatural — cards, dreams, wolves, and the like — on the twirling “Straight Back.”

Despite the potency of Nicks’ primary contributions, Mirage seemingly unfolds as a tight competition between Buckingham and McVie — and one that ultimately ends in a draw. Buckingham’s salvos include the contagious “Can’t Go Back,” a yearning to time-travel back to the past that’s complete with hall-of-mirrors backing vocals; “Oh Diane,” out-of- left-field ear candy sweetened with hiccupped vocals and salt-and-pepper-shaken grooves; the chiming “Eyes of the World”; and “Empire State,” a delightfully fluttering track whose high-range vocals, lap harp notes, and ringing xylophones hint at the galaxies of sound that would erupt on Tango in the Night.

Then there’s McVie. As elegant, understated, and coolheaded as she’s ever been on record, she pours her heart out on cuts that revolve around her inevitable split with Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. In the process, she punctuates Mirage with a characteristic not always associated with catchy pop music: emotional weight, and the sense of dreaded acceptance in the face of dreams deferred.

“I wish you were here/Holding me tight,” McVie sings over a delicate melody on the album-closing piano ballad “Wish You Were Here.” Though they hoped otherwise, for the members Fleetwood Mac, distance and separation were always close at hand. Believing otherwise, inviting nostalgia, and pretending everything was fine only amounts to a mirage.

In 1991 Coil released the third of their early classic full-length albums “Love’s Secret Domain”, seemingly casting aside the gloom
and funereal beauty of its predecessors in favour of a painstakingly multi-layered hallucinogenic electronic beast, which unlike
some of their fellow ex-industrial contemporaries’ releases of the time wasn’t an attempt at easy accessibility or (the-godsforbid) danceability, but a vibrating psychedelic masterpiece unrivalled in their discography and still a landmark album.
To mark its 30 year anniversary Infinite Fog are beyond proud to present an expanded, fully remastered re-release of this fan
favourite available for the first time ever in its entirety on vinyl with 10 rare and mostly unreleased tracks and alternative
versions from the period added as a bonus to a luxurious 3LP/2CD set.
Love’s Secret Domain contains among its many highlights the Lynchian William Blake tribute of its title track and the
intoxicating single “Windowpane”, original versions of the later Coil live staple “Teenage Lightning” and the majestically warped
classicisms of “Chaostrophy”. Marc Almond guests on the typhonian “Titan Arch” and This Heat’s Charles Hayward provides
some amazing drum stylings.
This album is Coil pushing their sound ideas and probably their sanity to their very limits. Beyond the iconic Steven Stapleton
cover art here reproduced in unseen definition the doors of perception still open wide for both long-term Coil aficionados and
new-comers to this supremely innovative release to explore unknown depths. The long-overdue re-release illustrates how far
ahead of the curve Coil were with the sounds on this album, which still sounds as fresh and mind-blowing as it did back in the
early 90s.

On their most explicit venture into music for moving image, Miles Whittaker & Sean Canty rudely fracture piano and vocal recordings by US filmmaker-musician Kristen Pilon in a short-circuiting of style and pattern.

Shredding up definitions of electro-acoustic opera, spectralist chamber musique and concrète rave, Demdike hit square between the eyes/ears of film music vernaculars on a startlingly strong addition to their unique oeuvre, now in its 16th year of elusive psychoacoustic strafes and jump-cuts across putative borders. The 13-part, hour-long album dislodges source material made for the experimental film ‘To Cut and Shoot’, by Kristen Pilon, an NYC-based musician and filmmaker, to farther refract the film’s themes of serendipity and the nature of ghosts and dreams with a flickering flux of sound-imagery and aleatoric weirdness appropriate to her original meditations, but also freely messing with their forms.

Situated just a few miles north of Houston, Cut and Shoot is a relatively insignificant Texas town with an unforgettably bizarre name. Pilon grew up not far from Cut and Shoot, and it's there where she ran into 65-year-old machinist and motorcyclist Robert Lewis Stevenson, better known as Bobbo, who's pictured on the album's cover. The meeting occurred a few months after Pilon recorded her improvisations on piano, strings and voice in the basement cellar of the Halle in Manchester, with Bobbo providing the necessary narrative heft the trio needed to inspire an experimental film and its accompanying soundtrack.

Responding to Kristen’s initial piano and operatic vocal recordings, Demdike return a volley of discrete parts tilting from typically cantankerous mayhem to quieter, more clandestine buzzes sliced with crazed interstices of the imagination, all marbled with the plasmic contrails of the paranormal which have long been peculiar to their work. With a poetic flair reflecting Pilon’s own phrasing and melding of mediums, Demdike unfold and expand her melodic fragments into temporal mazes, variously resembling the most messed-up ends of The Caretaker in ‘A Grave Fall (January)’, but also liable to skew into buckshot club turbulence, as with ‘Belly Up’, or the bittersweet bruk contortions of ‘Twist’.

The storyline wickedly frays and loops into itself with a non-linearity that recalls the mid-to-latter stages of Lynch’s ‘Mulholland Drive’ or waking from a sweaty fever dream only to pitch back into its thorny bush of ghosts, often within the space of one track. It’s testament to the ever-tighter binds of Demdike’s symbiotic vision that the results nevertheless hold a thread of logic that weaves in everything from their Jon Collin jams to reams of mixes and Gruppo edits with an unresolved, open-ended quality that still keeps us on our toes, perhaps more so than ever here.

Grey Vinyl Repress

Best of 2Pac is a posthumous greatest hits compilation series from Tupac Shakur released in two parts: Thug and Life. Both albums were released on December 4, 2007 in the United States and December 3, 2007 in the United Kingdom. Both compilations consists mostly of songs released before his death.

After releasing its first compilations since 2022, Nowadays is now coming back with a fourth compilation. The label is back in full force and will bring its audience to an even more diverse sonic journey, with never-seen-before collaborations, and new parties. Once more, Nowadays is giving us its definition of club music.

Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.

If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.

Beaten To Death’s brutal and innovative sound is somewhat melodic, in a strange way, and that’s why their sound is often called ‘melodic grindcore’; an oxymoronic definition, some might even say a moronic definition, but still the definition that best applies to this Norwegian quintet’s music. Beaten To Death consists of members from Insense, Tsjuder, The Cumshots, Gothminister and She Said Destroy and have won fans over globally for their energetic, strangely melodic and innovative approach to grindcore. With their combination of hysterical blast beats, meaty grooves, double guitar twang attack, asshole-of-god-earthquake bass and tongue in cheek lyrical approach to the shittiness of life, Beaten To Death have dug out their very own little niche in the music world. Their new sixth album “Sunrise Over Rigor Mortis” was recorded and mixed by Tommy Hjelm, and the amazing artwork is once again by William Hay. Since their last album from 2021, all the band members have aged horribly, and this is also the theme of the album. The positive thing about getting closer to the grave, is that profound grindcore poetry comes much easier than when the member were still carefree youngster, frolicking in the Norwegian forests…

Filled with aural magic and enchanting musical spells, Sorcerer is true to its name. The third of five albums by Miles Davis’ legendary Second Great Quintet — and the second record in a still-unprecedented string of eight consecutive releases within a four-year period that forever changed the face of jazz — the 1967 effort mesmerizes with instrumental colors, subdued musings, and subtle details. These crucial characteristics blossom with vibrant realism on Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM SuperVinyl LP.

Sourced from the original master tapes and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, this numbered-edition audiophile edition of Sorcerer joins the ranks of other essential Davis records given supreme sonic and packaging treatment by Mobile Fidelity. Longtime listeners will immediately recognize a wealth of information and depth of tonality unavailable on prior versions. The myriad shadings, interwoven textures, and relaxed nuances that tie the post-bop set’s warm compositions together are rendered with utmost realism. Credit goes to MoFi’s engineers as well as the label’s groundbreaking SuperVinyl profile that features the lowest-possible noise floor as well as sublime transparency, dead-quiet surfaces, and superb groove definition.

By any measure, this is a reference reissue. You’ll hear poetic lyricism pouring out of Wayne Shorter’s horn, the breadth and definition of the notes spreading across an enormous soundstage. Never before have drummer Tony Williams’ rim shots ricocheted with such purpose or his light percussive work mirrored that of a feather touching skin. Similarly, Herbie Hancock’s piano runs occupy their own space, where their relationship to the central rhythms and front line becomes clearer.

Prizing inflection and nuance more so than heady solos or uptempo flights, Sorcerer mesmerizes with cerebral properties and cascades of emotional interplay. Such beauty emerges in the mellow ballad “Pee Wee,” an indelible statement of restrained authority and sophisticated expression. The swirling title track unfolds as jazz shadowplay, Hancock, Shorter, and Williams mirroring one another’s moves with guile and purpose. The opening “Prince of Darkness” showcases the ensemble’s reach and communication, every musician going in seemingly different directions yet ending up on the same page.

A lasting example of Davis’ visionary insight, Sorcerer is comprised entirely of pieces written by his band mates. Indeed, save for the closing “Nothing Like You” — a brief tribute to Davis’ eventual wife, who also graces the cover, recorded in 1962 and adorned with vocals from Bob Dorough — the album represents a further maturation and refinement of a quintet that stands as one of the finest in jazz history.

MoFi SuperVinyl
Developed by NEOTECH and RTI, MoFi SuperVinyl is the most exacting-to-specification vinyl compound ever devised. Analog lovers have never seen (or heard) anything like it. Extraordinarily expensive and extremely painstaking to produce, the special proprietary compound addresses two specific areas of improvement: noise floor reduction and enhanced groove definition. The vinyl composition features a new carbonless dye (hold the disc up to the light and see) and produces the world’s quietest surfaces. This high-definition formula also allows for the creation of cleaner grooves that are virtually indistinguishable from the original lacquer. MoFi SuperVinyl provides the closest approximation of what the label’s engineers hear in the mastering lab.

FOR FANS OF: Nine Inch Nails, Stabbing Westward, bbb (Crosses), The Black Queen, Lady Gaga, Depeche Mode, Ministry
Love, das neue Album des Londoner Industrial-Noise-Pop-Dreigestirns Tayne, ist eine Erkundung von Liebe, Begehren, Konflikten und Angst. Während
einer Phase der Dissoziation geschrieben, dokumentiert Tayne-Mastermind Matt Sutton seine Vorstellungen von Liebe als Konflikt, Opfer und
Kompromiss, wie emotionale Bindung zu Konflikten führt und wie sich die Auswirkungen über Generationen hinweg ausbreiten können. Was kostet
die Liebe? Wie weit sind wir bereit zu gehen, um ihr nachzujagen? „In den meisten Liedern ist definitiv eine besiegte Haltung zu spüren“, sagt Matt.
„Ich war von Intimität eingeschüchtert, hatte Angst davor, verletzlich zu sein und mich zu outen.“ Mit einem wütenden Hybrid aus Metal, Industrial,
Shoegaze und Pop ringt Love mit der klassischen Definition des Wortes und erforscht, wie wir mit den Konflikten umgehen, die bei der Suche danach
entstehen. Matts Gesangsmelodien bilden einen starken Kontrapunkt zu den rasselnden Beats und den Wellen pulsierenden elektronischen Lärms,
die diese zehn Tracks prägen, und schaffen einen kraftvollen Hybrid, der ebenso viele Anleihen beim Art-Pop von Lady Gaga wie bei den akustischen
Angriffen von Nine Inch Nails nimmt. Gewalttätige Synthies kollidieren mit verführerischen Melodien, die den inneren Konflikt im Herzen der Platte
widerspiegeln. „Der Kontrast ist für mich viel interessanter“, erklärt Matt. „Ich liebe immer noch extremen Metal und Heavy-Bands, aber ich denke, es
ist ein bisschen aufregender, wenn man versucht, etwas zu schaffen, das nicht das ist, was alle anderen machen.“

It’s safe to assume no one in the audience at Carnegie Hall on March 30, 1974 anticipated what Miles Davis would play at the concert documented on Dark Magus: Live at Carnegie Hall. Recorded near the tail end of his electric period, the double album remains the darkest, most ferocious statement of Davis’ career — a visionary effort that foresaw developments in jungle, noise-rock, funk, and drum ‘n’ bass.

Initially issued in Japan in 1977, Dark Magus waited two decades for U.S. release. Now, more than 50 years after Davis and his ensemble blew minds at the famous New York venue, it gets its first-ever domestic issue on vinyl — and on a definitive-sounding pressing at that.

Mastered at Mobile Fidelity's California studio, housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, this numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set of Dark Magus invites you to pull up a seat and wrap your head around an exhilarating performance that simultaneously functions as an audition, experiment, release, and magnificent explosion of jazz-rock fusion. We hope your turntable and speakers are up to the challenge.

This collectible reissue presents the improvisational magic that unfolded onstage — the skronking tonalities, wah-wah-pedal bluster, acid-washed effects, furious drumming, run-the-voodoo-down grooves, menacing riffs, crashing cymbals —with incredible detail, color, and pace. It also captures the band’s unbelievable energy, rendering both instruments and on-the-fly changes with revealing depth, definition, and dynamics. At its core, MoFi’s audiophile set takes you deep into the boundless mystery, promise, and uncertainty of Davis and company’s efforts like never before.

The story behind Dark Magus is nearly as unbelievable as the spur-of-the-moment compositions that resulted when Davis brought drummer Al Foster, bassist Michael Henderson, percussionist James Mtume, horn virtuoso Dave Liebman, and guitarists Pete Cosey and Reggie Lucas together, and, in a new twist for the concert’s second half, added guitarist Dominique Gaumont and tenor saxophonist Azar Lawrence to mix. That the latter two instrumentalists had never seen each other until that night adds to Davis’ legend — and penchant for bold, unorthodox moves.

Ditto Davis’ own actions that spring evening, which reportedly included showing up to the show an hour late and taking the stage with his back facing the crowd. The strategy worked. Davis inspired the group to play in a bold manner that few, if any, had heard before. Dark Magus is a rhythmic bonanza. Rooted in Afro-centrist techniques, avante-garde sensibilities, and exploratory moods, the songs eschew set arrangements and solos, and, for the most part, melodic devices.

For Davis, Dark Magus represented a personal triumph amid a period marked by health issues, addictions, and critical decline. The latter slight would be corrected, but not until decades later when Dark Magus saw Stateside release in 1997 via a CD reissue. Of course, the free-form patterns, unpredictable passages, dense structures, and distorted blues that course through the songs — titled after Swahili numerals — are not for everyone. And certainly not for the fainthearted. Though Dark Magus contains majestic moments marked by quiet restraint and something on the level of balladry, its rich and radical concoction of tormented thwacks, thumps, cracks, clatters, wails, bleeps, burbles, stomps, and enigmatic beats remains its adventurous heart and soul.

Primal and enigmatic, fierce and jagged, forceful and revolutionary, jolting and terrifying, Dark Magus seemingly attacks from any and all directions. Turn it up loud and let the prophetic brilliance of this inimitable and relentlessly funky album wash over you.

Sonny Clark is one of the long list of fine jazz musicians who died too young. He died at age 31. This album from 1957 excellently captures what was the definition of jazz at that time, and this became one of the best jazz albums of all time. Sonny Clark's playing on this album has the sound of beautiful perfection, and (along with the great work of Paul Chambers on bass and ‘Philly’ Joe Jones on drums) the playing really swings. Sonny shines on “Tadd's Delight” and “I Didn't Know What Time It Was” with the crisp support from Chambers and ‘Philly’ Joe. He takes on the challenge of 'Be-bop', a very difficult tune, and pulls it off with his typical Sonny Clark touch.