Cerca:edgar jack

cause we love vinyl. Following the huge success of Jackfruit Recordings, we founded the sublabel Jackfruit Traxx in 2023. And here is the first vinyl release on the label: Jackfruit Traxx Salad Vol.1. It features four tracks. Nesi, Edgar Peng with a remix for Nils Ohrmann, and of course Dompe as label head are all on board. Dompe also contributes an exclusive vinyl-only track. House music all life long.

For the seventh installment of his Hardspace series, Len Faki selects three standout tracks from his personal vault - polishing them up with signature flair for maximum impact.

The A-side features a powerhouse mix of Jimmy Edgar´s Strike. Len Faki brings extra drive and spatial depth to the mix: sizzling hi-hats pan sharply across a tight stereo field, vocal chops flicker in and out, and the groove is stripped, slick, and forceful. A subtle reverb treatment adds atmosphere without compromising punch.

On the B-side, Faki dives into Robert Armani's 1994 album Right to Silence, revisiting two Chicago-style jacking tracks that are nodding to the Dance Mania era.
Up rides on a fierce hi-hat shuffle and a pounding stomp, centered around a bold vocal loop that captures the rough, battle-cry attitude of classic Chicago jack tracks. Faki's edit sharpens the angles and tightens the structure, giving the track even more bite.
Road Tour originally leaned on a harsh, detuned lead synth. Len´s Hardspace version removes the abrasive top line and lets the looping arp take center stage, which subtly shifts in tone and pans across the stereo field. The groove doesn't push forward so much as it sways side to side, creating a warped sense of motion. A pitched-up vocal sample-half command, half tease-injects just the right dose of jack attitude.
HS007 channels the raw, functional energy of vintage Chicago trax through Faki's modern lens - respectful to its roots, but fully tuned for today's sound systems.

’Angelo lost his shit over it. Aaliyah’s 3rd favourite track of all time is on it. David Bowie rocked up with it to a TV interview, declaring it “the most exciting sound of contemporary soul music”.

In 1996, Lewis Taylor released his self-titled masterpiece. A true modern classic, it’s an album that was years ahead of its time. Forget 25 years ago, it could easily have been made in 2021. An effortless blend of neo-soul, sophisticated pop, smart grooves and laid-back white funk, it enjoyed rapturous reviews from critics and music legends alike. But the album never managed to make an impact and given what was likely a token vinyl release at the time, the original records have long since been near-impossible to find. Lewis Taylor’s Lewis Taylor remains a holy relic for some and criminally unknown to most.

Lewis Taylor’s impeccable influences created a dazzling sonic palette: the LP as a whole suggests the visionary brilliance of Prince; the vocal stylings evoke the yearning power of Marvin Gaye; the effortless guitar playing shares the virtuosity of Jimi Hendrix; the haunting tones conjure Tricky; the innovative production and engineering invite comparisons to studio mavericks like Todd Rundgren and Brian Eno; the multi-layered, complex harmonies flash on Pet Sounds-era Brian Wilson; the dark, drama is reminiscent of both Scott Walker and Stevie Wonder; the complex arrangements create textures and moods with the feel of Shuggie Otis on Inspiration Information; the bold experimentation is akin to progressive artists like Faust and Tangerine Dream; the atmosphere is in conversation with Jeff Buckley’s Grace… and we could go on. That might all sound like marketing hyperbole, but not as far as Be With is concerned. It is a genuine wonder how an album this good could’ve passed so many people by.

But despite all the reference points, the similarities are really only skin-deep because the album sounds truly original. It occupies its own distinct, strange universe that feels dark and brooding one moment, bright and joyous the next. Ultimately, Taylor sounds like Taylor.

Although you wouldn’t know it from the credits, the album wasn’t the work of Lewis alone. Sabina Smyth gets an executive producer credit on the original sleeve, but in fact she worked with Lewis on the production and arrangements, did a lot of the backing vocals and she co-wrote Track, Song, Lucky and Damn with Lewis.

Lewis clarified all this in a Soul Jones interview with Dan Dodds in 2016. He explains how not giving Sabina the credit she was due at the time was an unfortunate consequence of where his head was at and he’s now trying to set the record straight.

Together they created an exquisite and sensually-charged record, with a freshness to the writing that makes the songs catchy, melodic-yet-deep and sometimes even funky. The music is predominantly guitar-led and a mixture of organs and synths, live drum loops and electronic percussion make for a sort of modern soul backing orchestra.

On the surface the album is gorgeously laidback, but beneath the lush, sometimes slick, production there’s a murkiness in the seriously gritty funk/hip-hop instrumentation. Lewis Taylor can be a claustrophobic listen. Even its one-word, often seemingly throw-away track titles add to the sense of unease. In its most positive moments, there’s still a sense that things aren’t quite right. The magic comes from this compelling tension.

The languid, strutting “Lucky” is a sensational opening statement. Sinuous electric guitar winds around the shaking percussion with a killer bass line rattling your bones, and Lewis’s voice is sublime. Its six-and-a-half unhurried minutes manage to distill the work of Marvin, Al Green and Bobby Womack because yes, it’s *that* good. Up next is the tough, dusty drum and jazzy, unsettling psych-guitar workout of “Bittersweet”. Aaliyah described it the “perfect song”, which says it all. By turns loping and soaring, tightly coiled and blasting free, 25 years on its discordant, swaggering majesty still sounds like future R&B.

The swinging, blue-eyed funk of “Whoever” oozes sophisticated sunshine soul for hazy days before “Track” sweeps in. The music tries to lift us up, beyond the reach of the vocals trying to drag us back down as Taylor sings “my mood is black as the darkest cloud”. The spare, dubby electro-soul of “Song” closes out the first half of the album with barely contained dread as it creeps towards the lush, synth-heavy coda.

The smouldering “Betterlove” eases us into the second half, coming on like a languorous response to the call of “Brown Sugar”, before sliding into the shuffling, softly-rocking “How”. Somehow the remarkable “Right” manages to both warm things up and smooth things out even more. Taut yet luxurious, it’s definitely not wrong.

“Damn” was to have been the album’s title track and you might also be able to hear its influence on D’Angelo’s Voodoo, maybe most obviously in the chaotic closing moments of “Untitled (How Does It Feel)”. Building to a screeching wall of noise that suddenly cuts dead, “Damn” sounds like the natural end to the album, with the celestial a cappella “Spirit” serving as a heavenly reprise.

When it came to the sleeve, art director Cally Callomon heard Taylor’s music as “sideways off-camera glances at a plethora of influences he had” and wanted to interpret that visually: “I went off into night-time London to see if I could find his song titles in off-beam low-fidelity photographs. I even found a shop called Lewis Taylor”. With a slide for each of the album’s ten tracks, nine of them are on the inner sleeve and the slide for “Damn” makes the front cover. It should’ve been the album’s title, but concerns over distribution in the US scuppered this.

One of UK soul’s most fascinating artists, Andrew Lewis Taylor is an enigmatic figure and a hugely under-appreciated talent. A prodigious multi-instrumentalist who got his start touring with heavy blues/psych outfit the Edgar Broughton Band, he released two albums of psychedelic-rock as Sheriff Jack before Island signed him on the strength of a demo alone. But Taylor was destined to be one of those artists unable (or unwilling) to be pigeonholed and despite the best efforts of Island’s publicity department the music never sold in the quantities it needed to or deserved to. Island eventually let him go in the early 2000s and in June 2006, Lewis Taylor retired from music.

Typical for the mid-90s, this CD-length album was squeezed onto a single LP for its original vinyl release. Simon Francis’s fresh vinyl mastering now spreads out the ten tracks over a double LP so nothing is compromised. And as usual, the records have been cut by Pete Norman and pressed at Record Industry. The original artwork has been restored at Be With HQ and subtly re-worked to work as a double.

This sprawling psychedelic soul opus really is a forgotten should-be-classic. We know that there are those of you who know, and as for the rest of you, we’re a bit jealous that you’re getting to hear Lewis Taylor for the first time.

A1: Damn – deez be some underwater dwellers. Hittin that snare like dem old boys – Lee Scratch or Mad Professor; This stuff is on fire, and not for Fyre; Works on real floors, can’t #Hashtag that shit.
A2: Mr. Max takes us down the Cavelerra highway; Starting with a solid and sparse veneer, turns into a wicked acid-filled warehouse jack. Throw in a strobe and some smoke and away we go.
B1: Old school maestro goes into stormy moody mode. Applying the simple counterpunch with a long and winding synth line, Edgar sneaks in a menacing acid line – teleporting you into the deepest corners of dystopian space. Definitely some shamanic tendencies going on here.
B2: The Anarchy Skyalkers. Nomen est omen. B-boy beats, 90ties rave; Boats and Hoes; Acid in da House; Repeat after me.

freshly repressed!
Leisure System, the collective, label and famed Berghain club night of four years standing, is back with their third release from co-founder and resident, Sam Barker. Known for its genre-defiant lineups, Leisure System's quarterly residency has consistently brought together artists with varying styles. Flying Lotus, Autechre, Afrika Hitech, Jackmaster, Surgeon, Jimmy Edgar, Blawan, 808 State, Dopplereffekt, Clark, Machinedrum, Surgeon, Venetian Snares, Objekt and Egyptian Lover have all graced the decks, showing off the collective's commitment to the exploration of new and experimental sounds in EDM. The development of the label, and now this release from Barker, is no exception. After discovering computers and raves in the late '90s, Barker began making tracks at age 13, building up a sizable collection of vintage analogue synths, paving the way for his future solo work and collaborations with artists like Tim Exile, Clark, Shitmat, Scotch Egg, The Field, Leafcutter John and Jimmy Edgar. Shortly after his 2007 move to Berlin, Barker began collaborating with fellow Berghain resident nd_baumecker, resulting in their ongoing project Barker & Baumecker. Their first EP 'Candyflip', was released on Ostgut Ton in 2010, followed up by a live show tour throughout Europe. The duo is currently readying their second EP and have a long player due out in August 2012. For this new solo EP, mastered by electronic music legend Pole, Barker presents a creative three-track lesson in diversity and highlights Leisure System's ever-evolving aural curiosity. The opener and title track 'Like An Animal' is a number that builds and builds, quickly changing course and mutating into a percussive and texturized melting pot of sounds. Up next the hypnotic 'I Feel', which is filled with moody pads and syncopated breakbeat rhythms, paving the way for the mechanical, yet smooth half-step rhythm of 'Hot Lover'. Siimilar to the collective, this offering pushes boundaries and mirrors the progressive ideals of the collective. Just like Leisure System's first two 12's from Pixelord and Eprom in 2011, Barker's 'Like An Animal' EP is a clear statement of the label's simple and distinct commitment : to be a platform for timeless, thrilling and soulful dance music in the fields of house, techno and electronica, disregarding media hype and genre borders. In keeping with this clear sonic manifesto, Leisure System's design aesthetic is equally individual, with all vinyl releases housed in deluxe die-cut jackets.