quête:environ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Following the compass of an entrancing debut, Flore Laurentienne's Volume II presents another palette of rich orchestral sound, where changing forces of water inspire metaphorical markers that navigate passages of life and loss. Mathieu David Gagnon resumes his voyage into environment and emotion with Volume II, drawing inspiration from the rivers and rugged wilderness of the composer's native Quebec. In his return as Flore Laurentienne - the namesake of an inventory documenting St. Lawrence Valley flora - Gagnon assembles vivid melodic motifs and delicate modulation with a vast string ensemble to emulate the tides of human experience. Listeners of Volume I will recognise Gagnon's signature approach towards reworking and reframing an emblematic melody or concept across a series of works in Volume II, a process he likens to that of a painter creating multiple sketches of the same view. Continued from the first album, the enigmatic "Fleuve" series is conjured to evoke the multiple personalities of the great St. Lawrence River, and the "Navigation" works ("III" and "IV") wade through dappled progressions and expansive streams of string, the latter of which harbors the gentle meanderings of improvised clarinet. In the world of Flore Laurentienne, complexity emerges from simplicity as the composer roams familiar environments in constant flux. Gagnon extracts beauty through repetition and constraint, utilizing the writing style of counterpoint for which one of his greatest musical inspirations, Johann Sebastian Bach, is renowned. The lilting waves of "Canon" possess the eponymous formation of melodic 'leader and follower' motif, and magnify the softness of the album's eighteen string musicians into a force of full euphoric resonance. In Volume II, Gagnon continues his expansion of classical composition archetypes to meet a new realm of sonic romanticism. Thematic conventions of wandering the pastoral sublime become altered into glimmering refractions, relaying the emotional and kinetic power of natural energies. Volume II forms an estuary where streams of auditory microcosm reach a horizon of dynamic contrast, and reflect the parallel tenors of nature and humankind.

Ranging from sanguine emotional clarity to distortion and unrest, Wow Sailor voyages through sunlight and storms in this mindful and explorative album. Happy Fear is an intricate tapestry of emotional experience, where fear and joy clash heads in the pursuit of self-understanding. Scattered field recordings of literature, ambiance and chance encounters provide atmospheric depth to enrich a resonant and meditative soundscape.

This tale begins with fond yet powerful nostalgia, before segueing into a range of hybrid instrumental explorations in which guitar, voice, violin, and trumpet blossom alongside refined electronic foundations. The album closes off with indulgent melancholia reminiscent of the opening, providing lifelike circularity to the album.

All songs remain connected; one leading into another without pause or silence. This urges the listener to digest the work in a single sitting as elements of the story seem intrinsically connected.

The first half is studded with gems of atmospheric conversation and recordings, providing a living and textured environment for the crafted synthetic sounds of Wow Sailor to evolve. Most songs are free from percussive structures, but In Her Gaze breaks the mold with clear percussive dictate. The middle and latter titles are connected by ominous frequencies that err on the darker side of curiosity - encouraging exploration into the transformative power of fear.

All in all, the work glimmers with spontaneity and diversity that resembles real-life experience. Carefully crafted sonic interplays bare semblance to the fluctuating emotional life of the ever sensitive and sentient human being.

Dugnad Rec sits at the helm of yet another wonderfully creative and philosophical work. This release gives verity to the artistic integrity, sound design, and mental exploration of the label. Wow Sailor’s work radiates an enticing, authentic, and indelible mark of individuality.

Both Aesop Rock and Homeboy Sandman are regarded as top tier lyricists known for pushing the envelope of creativity in their writing, while covering a wide range of topics and moods. However, sometimes things are inherently simple. Take for example, the origin of their collaboration, born from a mutual appreciation for each other as artists Which became fully realized when Aesop Rock invited Homeboy Sandman to join him on tour in 2015. Traveling the country together, they built a connection beyond the music, resulting in a friendship that led to recording a few songs together, and before they knew it, there was an infestation...Lice. Initially released in 2015 as a free direct download, followed by an extremely limited vinyl pressing sold exclusively on tour, Aesop Rock and Homeboy Sandman's Lice is finally available to fans everywhere. The first in a series of EP releases, Lice featured production from DJ Spinna, Optiks, Blockhead, Alex "Apex" Gale and Mike Shinoda. The original cover art was designed by renowned illustrator Jeremy Fish.

Oscean comes out firing from the outset on their new 12” entitled Multirays. The Argentinian duo of Andrés Zacco and Sebastián Galante are following up on the first release of their collaboration, Ideoma, also released on Tresor Records. With Multirays, this burgeoning collaboration reveals a promising evolution, moving into
more rhythmically diverse environments and playful structures.
The opening track, Multidimensional, strikes with confronting beats and a searching, woolly bass sound.
Constantly growing, it moves confidently with its skittering percussion work, ebbing and flowing through filter movements and expansive synths. Invisible Rays draws in breathing techno pulses, as Zacco and Galante cast drenches of feedback across the spectrum. A
deceptively mellow melody, recalling Spiral from their debut EP, teases at a deeper melodic progression, but the focus stays locked on the animated rhythms, tempting towards divergent grooves but expertly keeping feet on the floor.
In Drivion, Oscean investigates electro territories, simultaneously bubbling and driving. Echoed arpeggiations and upfront beats funnel impulses between neurons. Broad synth gestures oer gateways into abstraction before, without barely a hint, the rhythms beat once more.
On the closing track, Horizonsz, the duo drive forth through skipping rhythms and soul-searching bass murmurs. Synth pads beckon with fresnel lens reflections and rising warmth, motioning towards a
stunning moment of euphoria, where futurist mirages coexist with distant memories.

After From 0 to 90, released in 2020 on the British label Phantom Limb, Humbros returns with Druidarium (les albums claus), always with this focus on the mixture, the hybridization of synthetic and acoustic sounds. Captured in the mass, the eleven pieces are a concentrate of the different mediums and materials explored by the duo during four days of improvisation in the Ateliers Claus studio in December 2020.

Eleven scenes, panoramic or microscopic faux-field-recordings, strewn with stridulations and buzzes, from which sometimes emanate melodies seeming to escape from occult radios, from a deserted hotel hall, or even from a festive parade. Sound environments with different depths, textures and distances made possible by the movement of microphones in space, the use of different types of speakers as well as a multitude of acoustic and electronic percussion played on both sides of the studio.

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

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

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

Art has the power to mirror and capture its creators surroundings and environment. Art can also reflect something much more personal by offering us a glimpse of the artist’s mind. Hands Rest, the 2nd studio album by German composer and musician Aparde, does both. While reflecting the essence of Berlin’s club scene, in which Aparde undoubtedly is immersed in, the album also takes us to the depths of the musician himself, far from clubs and live sets, to a world that is both intimate and profound. “I think that I always process circumstances uncon- sciously in my music and that my way of thinking is full of internal conflicts,” he says. It is this duality, of an artist who is both entertaining Berlin’s nightlife through electronic sounds and delving deep into his own emotions through avant-garde pop, that epitomises Aparde’s work.


Hands Rest, which was created over the span of one year, has a cathartic feel to it, “the process was very diffused in terms of time, because over the past year my life circumstances have been very complicated and often frustrating, and I had to motivate myself again and again.” While he crafted the tracks, Aparde was in fact processing his own thoughts and feelings after the end of a long relationship, and listeners navigate through varying soundscapes that seem to accompany Aparde’s own internal commotions as he himself navigated a turbulent year. “It the break up was accompanied by numbness and repression. This was followed by a period of inactivity and the thought of ending my activity as a musician,” he tells.

Anthology introducing the first of a series of albums based on the concept of Aquapelago.

‘’ Since the earliest days of the planet there has been a rhythm of tides that creates coastal interzones where humans have foraged and pursued various livelihoods. Developing boats to fish from and technologies that enabled them to immerse themselves deep underwater, the aquatic realm has been one explored, experienced and imagined in various ways. In an effort to express the vitality and richness of this environment I coined the term aquapelago in 2012. The wordplay was deliberate. The neologism was designed to distinguish the liquid inbetweenness of this space from the dry, scattered, lands of archipelagos.

The concept of the aquapelago coalesced around themes taken from various places. Epeli Hau’ofa’s idea of an Oceanic “sea of islands’” was formative but a number of songs were also inspirational. Torres Strait islander Seaman Dan captivated me with his experiences of pearl diving in the Darnley Deeps in his song ‘Forty Fathoms’ and Norfolk Islander singer Kath King imaged how sea-turtles might have experienced ecological change in her song ‘Tech me how fer lew’. Other reflections on watery realms also appealed. Debussy’s solo piano piece ‘La cathédrale engloutie’ soundtracked me as I researched myths of lost Lyonesse while Mike Cooper’s Kiribati, an ambient exoticist album about the imperilled archipelago (recently re-released on Discrepant), caused me to reflect on the social and cultural impact of sea level rise before that topic became a high-profile concern.

This compilation album takes the concept of the aquapelago into new depths and breaches it on fresh shores. The tracks are soaked with the aquatic. Bassy sonorities boom as if heard deep underwater. Bubbly textures breach the surface, water drips and seabirds soar high above waves. Sugai Kei samples fragments of text concerning the Ningen, a fantastic humanoid/whale that reflects the ‘aquapelagic imaginary’ of modern Japan and its preoccupation with industrial whaling. Andrew Pekler continues the orientation of his Phantom Islands project - a sonic atlas of imaginary places - with a soundscape as if heard by a swimmer just offshore, mixing sounds of the island and the sea together. Mike Cooper’s sonic reflection on Hong Kong’s Lamma Island is similar, combining the island’s ubiquitous barking dogs with the slurp of waves on rocky shores, conjuring a languorous time before Chinese crackdowns on the territory.

Taking another tack, the Dead Mauriacs gleefully water-ski through collage of tropical island exoticisms, replete with glitchy orientalism, while Babau combines skittering idiophone melodies with resonant glissandi. Vica Pacheco moves between dense and airy sounds, as if crossing between surf lines and the space above. Yannkick Dauby’s track is also imbued with in-betweenness, evoking ambient sounds heard through a ship’s hull. Sculpture’s ‘Froth Surfer’ realises its title, with bubbling sounds and rhythms that evoke Hawaiian surfing filtered through layers of time and distance. Reminding us of the shore necessary for aquapelagic spaces, Franceso Cavaliere and Tomoko Sauvage’s composition anchors the album, centred around shaken rhythms and resonant ringing tones and drones.

Taken together, the album sketches the contours of the aquapelago as it might be imagined and conjured in sound – an endless oceanic realm that laps on to beaches and crashes against cliffs. The performers navigate this space under alternately starry and cloudy skies, orientating themselves with sounds, textures and sonic samples of their terrestrial homes while we float with them. ‘’
Philip Hayward December 2021

Jerry Hunt, Philip Krumm, Jerry Willingham, James Fulkerson, Larry Austin, Dary John Mizelle, BL Lacerta, Gene DeLisa, Robert Michael Keefe, Rodney Waschka II Irida Records: Hybrid Musics from Texas and Beyond, 1979-1986 Irida Associates U.S.A., an obscure and short-lived record label formed by composer-performer Jerry Hunt, offers a glimpse into the revelatory world of new music and composition in the artist's native Third Coast. Based first in Dallas and later in Hunt's home outside the rural town of Canton, Texas, Irida presented the innovative and daring experiments_into aleatoric methods, environmental acoustics, improvisation, homemade technologies, and more_pursued by Hunt and his select collaborators, primarily working in or near Texas between 1979 and 1986. Irida's brief and compact output_seven non-sequentially numbered LPs released in unknown quantities_shared work by artists whose practices often challenged the limitations of vinyl recording. Hunt called the label a "vanity project" and frequently talked of a tax loophole he could claim if it all went belly up, but in its short lifespan Irida captured a tremendous period of creative experimentation by the artist and his friends and collaborators. This boxed set gathers Irida's complete discography for the first time. These records include early attempts by Hunt to record his generative and highly permutable scores and performances on vinyl in Cantegral Segment(s) 16.17.18.19. / Transform (Stream) / Transphalba / Volta (Kernel), as well as his only composition for piano, "Lattice," on Texas Music (both records 1979). The label distributed solo and group recordings by those in Hunt's circle as well, including Larry Austin's electroacoustic, syncretic compositions in Hybrid Musics; James Fulkerson's unique, extended techniques for the trombone on Works; a fusion of three overlaid compositions in Dary John Mizelle's Music of Dary John Mizelle; spontaneous pieces and riff-based "character improvisations" in Music of BL Lacerta by the four piece "orchestra in miniature" BL Lacerta Improvisation Quartet; and experiments in compositional "mapping" by external structures in Cartography, featuring Austin, Gene De Lisa, Robert Michael Keefe, and Rodney Waschka II. Accompanying the boxed set is a richly-illustrated reader with a detailed essay on on the label by Lawrence Kumpf and Tyler Maxin; never-before-published archival materials; newly commissioned reflections by Fulkerson and the composer Jerry Willingham; as well as an interview with Hunt and ephemera including album and concert reviews, artworks, posters and flyers, and correspondences from the musicians and composers involved.

Pronounced 'CLIT DRIP' for those confused or too shy to ask, CLT DRP have been turning heads since 2017. The genre-bending trio's non-apologetic and yet playful approach has seen them garner praise from TheLineOfBestFit, Gigwise, and plenty more. Their music gets you moving, invites you in with power, and makes you question your environment and yourself. In their time, CLT DRP have already supported Nova Twins, Warmduscher, among others, and performed at 2000trees and ArcTanGent festivals.

* = Vinyl only track

Washington DC resident Bartees Leon Cox Jr. aka Bartees
Strange, announces his new album and 4AD debut, ‘Farm To
Table’, which also includes recent single ‘Heavy Heart’. Where
his 2020 debut record, ‘Live Forever’, introduced the
experiences and places that shaped Bartees (Flagey Brussels,
Mustang Oklahoma), ‘Farm To Table’ zeros in on the people -
specifically his family - and those closest to him on his journey
so far.
 With his career firmly on the ascent, ‘Farm To Table’ examines
Bartees’ constantly shapeshifting relationship with life post-‘Live
Forever’. It also speaks to a deeper lore that says, don’t forget
where you came from, and this album is why. Always
remembering where he came from, across 10 songs Bartees is
celebrating the past, moving towards the future, and fully
appreciating the present.
 An unapologetic and braggadocious indie-trap banger, new
single ‘Cosigns’ celebrates Bartees’ peers, collaborators and
friends; name-checking the likes of Bon Iver, Phoebe Bridgers,
Courtney Barnett and Lucy Dacus, through a genre-defying
outpouring somewhere between swaggering hip-hop and
euphoric alt rock. The song ends on a poem he wrote in his
early 20s, “I don’t know how to be full, it’s the hardest to know, I
keep consuming I can’t give it up, It’s never enough.” ‘Cosigns’
is also a moment for Bartees to acknowledge himself, giving
himself credence and unashamedly basking in that glow. Its
accompanying official video was directed by Pooneh Ghana.
 Born in Ipswich, England, to a military father and opera-singer
mother, Bartees had a peripatetic early childhood before
eventually settling in Mustang, Oklahoma. Later, Bartees cut his
teeth playing in hardcore bands in Washington DC and Brooklyn
whilst working in the Barack Obama administration and
(eventually) the environmental movement. Since charting a path
as a solo artist, Bartees Strange has released two records in
quick succession: an EP reimagining songs by The National
(‘Say Goodbye To Pretty Boy’, 2020) and his debut album
proper, ‘Live Forever’.

They say: "Contemporary synthesizer sounds illustrating wide open space activities, environment and research."

We say: Panoramic proto-techno underwater-electro library dynamite.

One of the hardest pulls on the seminal Coloursound, Open Space Motion (Underscores) isn't just regarded as one of the best releases from library-funk overlord Klaus Weiss. It's one of the very best library records ever.

As cult as it gets when it comes to library music, the Klaus Weiss sound was built on top of sometimes funky, sometimes frenetic, but always hard-hitting drums. AND YET! Open Space Motion departs from his drum-heavy approach by being completely...BEATLESS! That's right, the virtuoso beat smith, Mr "drumcrazy of Deutschland", a man known for snapping necks at will, crafted one of the most horizontally sumptuous, elegantly sweeping electronic masterpieces, sans-drums, a good decade before chill-out rooms became a thing. It features organic instruments married to pulsing synth bass atop brilliantly subdued yet irresistibly funky percussion. Possessing a very special vibe, that's at once futuristic yet cinematic, it overflows with atmosphere.

The highlights - unsurprisingly - are many. The very first track - the unstoppable "Wide Open Space Motion" - is a sinister, string-fried electro bomb that rides an unrelenting bass loop. "Incessant Efforts" is more reflective, with pastoral yet probing flutes atop strutting synth chords and head-nod percussion that really swings. The heavenly, uber-kosmiche "Pink Sails" hovers over swirling neon-synthy-strings and yet more unobtrusive percussion. The beautiful "Transiency" is a dramatic piano-led underscore, its creeping unease created by patient strings, unhurried percussion and some wonderfully strident keys. "Driving Sequences" is perhaps the key tune here, and if the Detroit crew weren't listening to this staggering piece then, well, imagine if they *were*.

The bubbling rhythms of "Southern Mentality", at first ominous, give way to a more optimistic vibe as the movement progresses. The lush, gorgeous "Bows" is deep-sea slow-motion magic whilst the bright-eyed "Outset" feels as fresh as the dawn, and no less beautiful. How these tracks haven't been gobbled up by sample-driven producers is beyond us. Equally calming is the sweeping majesty of "Constellation", again conjuring images of being at one with and fully beguiled by the wonders of nature, of space, of underwater worlds. "Changing Directions" is another fidgety, propulsive non-Detroit beatless bomb.

As with all our library music re-issues, the audio for Open Space Motion comes from the original analogue tapes and has been remastered for vinyl by Be With regular Simon Francis. Richard Robinson has brought the original Coloursound sleeve back to life in all its metallic silver glory.

WRWTFWW Records is so happy to announce Poly-Time Soundscapes / Forest Of The Shrine, a brand new release by Japanese producer Taro Nohara (Yakenohara). 8 tracks of pure environmental ambient bliss available on LP housed in a heavy 350gsm sleeve with an artwork from the artist himself.

Based in Tokyo, Taro Nohara is a producer, beatmaker, DJ, and music activist who made a mark with his electronic / ambient unit Unknown Me ( (of Not Not Fun Records fame). His new solo project, Poly-Time Soundscapes / Forest Of The Shrine, is a unique and modern take on Japanese environmental music, a free floating re-interpretation of the sub-genre made famous by Midori Takada, Hiroshi Yoshimura, or Satoshi Ashikawa (and more!) fused with subtle nuances of various origins: downtempo, hip hop, sound design, chill-out, experimental.

Conceived as a two-part adventure of contemplative peace, Taro Nohara’s organic soundscape takes you on a mind-soothing walk through time (or memories) and the beautiful mysteries of luscious forests - don’t resist, let yourself go, explore!

The Independent - 5 star Glastonbury set review “Making their Glastonbury review, IOW collective Plastic Mermaids are a joy to behold at the Croissant-Neuf stage.” New single 'Girl Boy Girl' Girl Boy Girl is an uncomfortable place, an unspoken awkwardness and tension. Always convoluting, never resolving. Just like this perpetual frustration when a relationship isn’t right but none has the language or understanding to fix it. And then thinking that adding a 3rd party to the mix is going to solve the problems…oh dear. We took some inspiration from the song ‘Night Call’ on the Drive soundtrack and also some of the slower Daft Punk tunes. Kinda wanted it to feel like something you’d stick on cruising in your car after dark in the 80’s. It has been two years since Plastic Mermaids released their critically acclaimed debut ‘Suddenly Everyone Explodes’, and now they return to spread some eagerly awaited blissed out joy with new single Disco Wings & b side Environmental with their second album due next year. The band have been working hard in the studio teaming up with producer Ant Whiting, who has worked with the likes of MIA, John Newman and Lana De Ray, in what proved to be an exciting mix of creative ideas.

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Charlotte Leclerc talks loud and fast, she’s at full speed, at a heat of 10,000 degrees and gives off a very pleasant warmth - if you stay at the right distance. She’s like the sun: if you get too close, you’ll burn up straight away. Speaking of which, Charlotte has distanced herself, and not on purpose either. When coming home at night, instead of getting into the role of laboring musician, she chose instead to make music a bit like you’d smoke one last cigarette before bed. The story of this album began when I asked her if she made music by herself. I knew she played regularly with other people in bands, but nothing about any potential solo musical activity. She replied, “When I get home late at night, before going to bed, I like to switch on my old Vermona drum machine and my synths. I record stuff that isn’t songs, that I forget all about and don’t listen to again because it must be garbage.” It didn’t take more than that for me to really want to listen to it. After several months of enquiring, she accepted to send me all these “bits of music” as she calls them. I loved them straight away. Very loose and free tracks, a music made for no one in particular. No format, no structures, just creation sprinkled over daily life. Moments like these are often forgotten, lost in your head, which is overcrowded with day-to-day stuff. But in this case, she managed to save them, preserving them in time thanks to the record button. Style-wise, I’m not sure what Charlotte Leclerc’s “bits of music” are. Avant-exotica? Ambient-funk? Maybe. However, if you’re wondering if there’s any emotion in there, I’d answer as she would, “Yeah, loaaaads.”

Advanced Myth is the lucid debut album from Dialect, the long standing project of British composer, multi-instrumentalist, and field recordist Andrew PM Hunt. An enchanted exploration of unusual source synthesis, electro-acoustic arrangements, and sound found in foreign environments, Advanced Myth is its own cosmos expanding and contracting in real time. Although a largely meditative listen, it oscillates between moments of shimmering lucidity and corrosive washes of noise. Originally released digitally by tasty morsels in 2015, Advanced Myth has been newly mastered by Stephan Mathieu from definitive mixes, and is available for the first time on vinyl. Since his debut, Hunt has built a broad oeuvre with a quiet confidence across several albums, including Gowanus Drifts (2015), Loose Blooms (2017), and Under ~ Between (2021), his debut for RVNG Intl., and its companion piece, Keep Goingü... Under. For Fans of Laurie Spiegel, Visible Cloaks, Oneohtrix Point Never, Catarina Barbieri, Clare Rousay.

Tofu Resistance returns with his new ep “Thorídur”, marking his 3rd release on YNFND after his full length debut “1//23“ in 2019.

This EP sits comfortably between both the world of beats and a more relaxed environment. Returning to his roots, Tofu Resistance aka Tobias Kleine remembers his early influences of sample based music and classy hip hop grooves.

The result is a sonorous sketch of deceleration, answering with bouncy rhythms to nod your head to. You can hear him playing the drums, guitars and various other instruments on this record. A beautiful blend of organic and electronic production, adding his unique Tofu flavor.

New Orleans-based singer-songwriter Julie Odell announces her new album Autumn Eve, out September 30th via tastemaker label Frenchkiss Records (Local Natives, Passion Pit, The Drums). Lead single Cardinal Feather is a quicksilver ripper, with both a graceful, silky patience and fiery rock motor. The accompanying video finds Odell lakeside in swampy Louisiana, shot from sunrise to dusk in the lush environment under swarms of mosquitoes. “We found the beauty in the chaos, much like finding peace beyond anxiety and depression.” says Odell.

"From Down Below – Live 80 Meters Deep by Portuguese dark metal masters MOONSPELL invites you on a memorable adventure worthy of a Guinness Book honorable mention! Recorded live at Grutas de Mira D'Aire - one of Portugal’s seven natural wonders, it showcases the band’s latest, much acclaimed album Hermitage (2021, Napalm Records) at its primal best, live from inside one of the most impressive caves in Europe. The recording boasts a one of kind sound and visual sensation, with its heavy dose of cinematic flavor, unreal atmosphere and the encircling, resounding nature in its raw form. Tracks such as 'Entitlement', 'Hermitage' and 'Apoptheghmata' perfectly settle in with the album‘s unique environment. From Down Below – Live 80 Meters Deep is not only an epic live momentum of Hermitage - one of the deepest, heaviest and most sincerely heart-breaking records the band has ever written - but a truly revolutionary experience, as MOONSPELL brought along a select number of fans and a production team (literally), underground. Brilliantly directed by Guilherme Henrique, From Down Below – Live 80 Meters Deep is something you have never, ever seen or heard before. " 1. SINGLE - EN Recorded live, 80 meters deep within a natural cave at one of Portugal’s seven world wonders, haunting single 'Entitlement' by Portuguese dark metal pioneers MOONSPELL shines in a new shape, made crystal clear, in an unreal atmosphere mixed with the sound of nature in its pure form.

Full Circle is the sixth album by long time Ghost Box roster member, The Advisory Circle. Self-avowed synaesthesiac, Cate Brooks conjures a very visual fantasy in four acts (the vinyl version across four sides of a luxurious gatefold double 10”). Her tracks evoke human dramas played out against the timeless backdrop of a utopian built environment, where leisure, luxury, elegance and romance are always in fashion.

Brooks' music is by turns ambient, dramatic, upbeat and melancholic. It's instrumental electronica of the very highest calibre, an expert and masterly manipulation of electronic equipment both old and new. Light touches of acoustic and electric instrumentation and flourishes of both tape and digital sound manipulation add colour throughout.

This long running solo project is saturated in 70s and 80s TV and library music influences, and in some ways Full Circle is a call back to the 2005 debut EP Mind How You Go. However, the music and production have evolved over the yers, into a distinctively rich and three dimensional soundworld. The album wears its influences and sonic components proudly, but feels contemporary, cool, and fresh. Brooks' music career predates and now transcends the world of hauntological electronica that it inspired.

Both Aesop Rock and Homeboy Sandman are regarded as top tier lyricists known for pushing the envelope of creativity in their writing, while covering a wide range of topics and moods. However, sometimes things are inherently simple. Take for example, the origin of their collaboration, born from a mutual appreciation for each other as artists which became fully realized when Aesop Rock invited Homeboy Sandman to join him on tour in 2015. Traveling the country together, they built a connection beyond the music, resulting in a friendship that led to recording a few songs together, and before they knew it, there was an infestation...Lice.

Initially released in 2015 as a free direct download, followed by an extremely limited vinyl pressing sold exclusively on tour, Aesop Rock and Homeboy Sandman's Lice is finally available to fans everywhere. The first in a series of EP releases, Lice featured production from DJ Spinna, Optiks, Blockhead, Alex "Apex" Gale and Mike Shinoda. The original cover art was designed by renowned illustrator Jeremy Fish.

DJ Scriby - Izingoma zeGqomu / DJ MARIIO - ZULU MAN / DJ Skothan – Nevegation. Highlighting the continuing evolution of Durban's globally influential gqom sound, this special trilogy of releases showcases three separate artists from South Africa's fertile musical landscape. The set captures a fresh wave of gqom innovation from veteran producer DJ Skothan/DJ Scoturn, DJ Scriby, and 20-year-old DJ MaRiiO. DJ Skothan/DJ Scoturn has been a key figure in Durban's underground scene for many years, producing alongside Phelimuncasi, Bhejani, Tweeyking, Lafaristo, MaRiiO and DJ MP3. His gqom and house tracks have quietly provided a rumbling engine for the city's scene, and "Nevegation" is his debut full-length, providing a complex diagram of his dancefloor versatility. This isn't the gqom you might expect to hear: immediately on opener 'The Gringo' familiar sounds - shovel kicks, chopped vocals, sampled gasps, horror movie strings - are shuffled into atypical patterns, creating jerky soundscapes rather than the expected four-on-the-floor bump. 'Salut to DJ Lag' pays respect to Durban's Beyoncé-approved pioneer, but twists the template into a propulsive new form, adding rolling and evolving percussion that teases fractal shapes each bar. But the album's most unexpected and forward-thinking moment arrives with the aptly titled 'The King of Gqom', a track that simmers the genre's percussive sounds into limber sci-fi club futurism, tweaking the bass sounds into patterns that nod to dubstep, Jersey club and ballroom. 25-year-old DJ Scriby has been working behind the scenes since 2013, assisting the first wave of gqom innovators promote their sound both inside Durban and beyond. In 2017 he joined London's Trax Couture to release "The Clermont EP", and here he introduces his long-awaited follow-up "Izingoma zeGqomu". Scriby's approach to gqom is well-studied and self-aware, which gives him the ability to stretch the sound's scope across the diaspora: just peep the Atlanta trap synths on the dynamic 'Friday 13th', or the absorption of tight grime snares on opening track 'Goi'. Scriby's engineering skill pushes his productions to the next level, lending slithering downtempo tracks like 'Ouuu1' and 'Igqom Libuye' a widescreen, big-room punch without losing the genre's undulating funk. And the producer even eyes the EDM mainstage with 'Qumqum!!', balancing saccharine synths with jerky kicks, claps and rolling toms. The youngest artist featured in the collection, DJ MaRiiO started producing when he was just 12 years old, watching YouTube production videos. "No one told me how to use FL Studio," he admits, "and no one helped me doing different genres." This might be why his music sounds so completely unique; the basic structure of gqom is still present, but MaRiiO augments these elements with youthful energy and carefree use of unusual sounds and production methods. "Zulu Man" opener 'GQom NyeGe' manages to mash together trance synths, DMZ bass and a driving woodblock rhythm that reminds you of its Durban roots, while the bizarre 'Ngom ya Phesh', featuring MaRiiO's regular collaborator Hot Chicks on vocals, pushes the gqom template into the red, with overdriven kicks and disorienting environmental sounds. All three records provide a 360 degree view of Durban's contemporary underground, nodding to the past, present and future of gqom. It's a genre that's constantly in flux as it moves from South Africa's bedrooms and basements to main stages and movie screens across the globe.

Belgian label founded by Viernulvier Arts Centre (formerly Vooruit) to release music composed for theatre, dance and performances.

Viernulvier Records‘ first release will be The Shedding of Skin, the debut album from the Belgian-Iraqi Use Knife, set to be released on September 30, 2022.

Use Knife is the music project of Stef Heeren, Kwinten Mordijck and Saif Al-Qaissy, in collaboration with multidisciplinary artist Youniss Ahamad. The project first emerged when Stef and Kwinten, both also active members of Kiss The Anus Of A Black Cat, met Saif during auditions for a dance performance. The musical possibilities that presented themselves gave the gentlemen the drive to start the journey of uniting their Belgian and Iraqi musical backgrounds.

The album’s title, The Shedding of Skin, refers to the human survival instinct, the desire to leave war and disaster behind and build a new life in a completely different environment.

In addition to making music and composing together, Saif, Kwinten and Stef had countless conversations in order to gain insight into each other’s lives. These conversations are reflected in the song lyrics: for one of them, the worst is all behind them and they are focused on a brighter future, while the other is aware of all the privileges he has been given. The need to address this inequality is reflected in the combination of dreamy Arab songs with punky Dadaist touches.

For the recordings of the Arabic percussion, vocals and wind instruments, the band worked together with Joris Caluwaerts (Stuff., Lady Linn, Hydrogen Sea,…) in his Finster Studio. The mastering was done by Frederik Dejongh aka Jerboa Mastering. Youniss Ahamad provided the artwork, Farah Fayyad converted the English album title into Arabic script and Jef Cuypers and Chloé D’hauwe realised the graphic design of the cover.

A huge, booming sound prevails across these ten songs, riddled with hooks and accessible in its own odd way: you might catch shards of WIPERS,INSTITUTE"Philadelphia death rock/dungeon punk band Poison Ruïn consolidate their two EPs into one ten-song, self-titled album. Brained, fleshed, and recorded by Mac Kennedy, this effort is one of a personal nature. The sonic nature of the album has a human looseness, apparent like a cassette tape warbling from being wound and rewound. At times the songs sound thin and brittle, as though they are breaking apart simply by being played. The lyrics walk the same path and describe a world of cosmic horrors and environmental disaster. With their soft, eerie, medieval-hall introductions, each song transports the listener to a world of runes and swords, but staves off dorkiness with the relevance of a chewy post-punk center. Rife with sweetly stark guitar hooks and drums that flail like a death march, this self-titled LP gives off black metal at first glance. On further inspection, there is a gradation of inspirations ranging from pond-hopping blues guitar solos, heavy-handed punk drumming, gothic ambiance, and progressive song structures."

TRACKLIST: 1.Carrion 2.Crucifix 3.Demon Wind 4.Sacorsanct 5.Fog of War 6.Paladin's Wrath 7.Doppelganger 8.Morning Star 9.Exiles/ Hell Hounds

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Celebrating the 50th Anniversary of the Rocky Mountain High album and song, John Denver's Windstar Records is reissuing the album on limited edition Transparent Blue Vinyl. Originally released September 15, 1972, Rocky Mountain High was Denver's first Top 10 album, propelled by the self-titled single. In 2007, the title track was made a state song of Colorado. The album has gone on to earn 2x Platinum status and the title track certified Gold. In the early 1970s, Denver was one of the first artists to share an environmental message through his music, and fans responded. John understood that responsibility came with having a public voice. The album's iconic namesake Rocky Mountain High was written while Denver was camping in the Rocky Mountains during the Perseid Meteor Shower, with lyrics expressing the love and wonder John Denver felt for his adopted state of Colorado, and speaking of environmental sustainability. Released while war was raging in Vietnam, the album's second single "Prisoners" tells a story of prisoners of war. The album also features Denver's take on songs by The Beatles and John Prine, and the five-part Season Suite finds reflection through the seasons. Tracks: 1 Rocky Mountain High, 2 Mother Nature's Son 3 Paradise 4 For Baby (For Bobbie) 5 Darcy Farrow 6 Prisoners 7 Goodbye Again 8 Season Suite: Summer, Fall, Winter, Late Winter Early Spring (When Everybody Goes To Mexico), Spring

Divino Niño are no strangers to bold reinvention. When Camilo Medina and Javier Forero_friends whose bond dates back to their childhoods in Bogotá, Colombia_moved to Chicago and recruited guitarist Guillermo Rodriguez to form a band, they were psych-pop outsiders playing live shows with a drum machine. With the addition of drummer Pierce Codina, their 2019 breakthrough and debut LP for Winspear, Foam, solidified their place as local indie rock mainstays. Soon after, multi-instrumentalist Justin Vittori joined to round out their lineup. Once again, with their masterful, unpredictable, and eminently danceable new album, the band has done something radical: They totally upended the way they write songs, eschewing practice room jams for unrelentingly collaborative beats, implied grooves for immersive dance floor heaters, and mellow vibes for frenetic doses of reggaeton, electropop, and trap on their most adventurous and ambitious work to date. Welcome to the Last Spa on Earth. Written and recorded over the past two years, Last Spa on Earth deals in release and catharsis: confronting your darkest moments and coming out better for it. The album artwork, done by Medina, a longstanding visual artist, depicts a dreamy, yet graffiti-tagged spa, void of physical bodies so listeners can envision themselves in this unique environment. It represents the yin and yang approach Divino Niño took while creating the album: the serenity of the spa and the chaos of the party. Ultimately, the band's desire is to provide healing in the same way one feels after sweating, shivering, stretching, and resting at the spa against the backdrop of the world's darkness. Last Spa on Earth is the cathartic product of Divino Niño letting go of their musical preconceptions, past traumas, and future anxieties to embrace change, chaos, and each other's contributions both to these songs and to each other.

Divino Niño are no strangers to bold reinvention. When Camilo Medina and Javier Forero_friends whose bond dates back to their childhoods in Bogotá, Colombia_moved to Chicago and recruited guitarist Guillermo Rodriguez to form a band, they were psych-pop outsiders playing live shows with a drum machine. With the addition of drummer Pierce Codina, their 2019 breakthrough and debut LP for Winspear, Foam, solidified their place as local indie rock mainstays. Soon after, multi-instrumentalist Justin Vittori joined to round out their lineup. Once again, with their masterful, unpredictable, and eminently danceable new album, the band has done something radical: They totally upended the way they write songs, eschewing practice room jams for unrelentingly collaborative beats, implied grooves for immersive dance floor heaters, and mellow vibes for frenetic doses of reggaeton, electropop, and trap on their most adventurous and ambitious work to date. Welcome to the Last Spa on Earth. Written and recorded over the past two years, Last Spa on Earth deals in release and catharsis: confronting your darkest moments and coming out better for it. The album artwork, done by Medina, a longstanding visual artist, depicts a dreamy, yet graffiti-tagged spa, void of physical bodies so listeners can envision themselves in this unique environment. It represents the yin and yang approach Divino Niño took while creating the album: the serenity of the spa and the chaos of the party. Ultimately, the band's desire is to provide healing in the same way one feels after sweating, shivering, stretching, and resting at the spa against the backdrop of the world's darkness. Last Spa on Earth is the cathartic product of Divino Niño letting go of their musical preconceptions, past traumas, and future anxieties to embrace change, chaos, and each other's contributions both to these songs and to each other.

Divino Niño are no strangers to bold reinvention. When Camilo Medina and Javier Forero_friends whose bond dates back to their childhoods in Bogotá, Colombia_moved to Chicago and recruited guitarist Guillermo Rodriguez to form a band, they were psych-pop outsiders playing live shows with a drum machine. With the addition of drummer Pierce Codina, their 2019 breakthrough and debut LP for Winspear, Foam, solidified their place as local indie rock mainstays. Soon after, multi-instrumentalist Justin Vittori joined to round out their lineup. Once again, with their masterful, unpredictable, and eminently danceable new album, the band has done something radical: They totally upended the way they write songs, eschewing practice room jams for unrelentingly collaborative beats, implied grooves for immersive dance floor heaters, and mellow vibes for frenetic doses of reggaeton, electropop, and trap on their most adventurous and ambitious work to date. Welcome to the Last Spa on Earth. Written and recorded over the past two years, Last Spa on Earth deals in release and catharsis: confronting your darkest moments and coming out better for it. The album artwork, done by Medina, a longstanding visual artist, depicts a dreamy, yet graffiti-tagged spa, void of physical bodies so listeners can envision themselves in this unique environment. It represents the yin and yang approach Divino Niño took while creating the album: the serenity of the spa and the chaos of the party. Ultimately, the band's desire is to provide healing in the same way one feels after sweating, shivering, stretching, and resting at the spa against the backdrop of the world's darkness. Last Spa on Earth is the cathartic product of Divino Niño letting go of their musical preconceptions, past traumas, and future anxieties to embrace change, chaos, and each other's contributions both to these songs and to each other.

"Seven years after the release of their last album “Eternal”, Stratovarius once more prove their status as symphonic metal flagship and come back with a big bang.

Not only musically the band is once more at the pulse of time. The environment and humanity’s future has always been an important and reoccurring theme in Stratovarius’ music and so the title of the new album “Survive” as well as the accompanying artwork doesn’t surprise - especially in the view of the current global situation.
The new album brings a total number of 11 brand new tracks"

"Seven years after the release of their last album “Eternal”, Stratovarius once more prove their status as symphonic metal flagship and come back with a big bang.

Not only musically the band is once more at the pulse of time. The environment and humanity’s future has always been an important and reoccurring theme in Stratovarius’ music and so the title of the new album “Survive” as well as the accompanying artwork doesn’t surprise - especially in the view of the current global situation.
The new album brings a total number of 11 brand new tracks"

"Seven years after the release of their last album “Eternal”, Stratovarius once more prove their status as symphonic metal flagship and come back with a big bang.

Not only musically the band is once more at the pulse of time. The environment and humanity’s future has always been an important and reoccurring theme in Stratovarius’ music and so the title of the new album “Survive” as well as the accompanying artwork doesn’t surprise - especially in the view of the current global situation.
The new album brings a total number of 11 brand new tracks"

"Seven years after the release of their last album “Eternal”, Stratovarius once more prove their status as symphonic metal flagship and come back with a big bang.

Not only musically the band is once more at the pulse of time. The environment and humanity’s future has always been an important and reoccurring theme in Stratovarius’ music and so the title of the new album “Survive” as well as the accompanying artwork doesn’t surprise - especially in the view of the current global situation.
The new album brings a total number of 11 brand new tracks"

Utrecht’s Banji return with news of their record,
‘Freshcakes’, via PIAS Recordings.
‘Freshcakes’ is filled to the brim with Banji
goodness, with a whopping thirteen tracks.
With support from Line of Best Fit and The
Independent (Track Of The Week), and features in
CLASH, DORK and more, Banji are making their
mark with this new record, pressed to light blue
vinyl.
Talking about ‘Freshcakes’, vocalist Morris Brandt
says: “Banji’s songwriting has always reflected my
surroundings and environment. Big themes of this
album are struggling with adulthood, self-worth
and self-esteem, mental health and frustrations,
addiction, and finding your own self-discipline and
maturity over time. The lyrics that flowed out of me
throughout the making of ‘Freshcakes’ tend to be
built around introverted thoughts, personal social
situations, and subjects that I find difficult to
dissect.”

Leaving Records presents Under the Lilac Sky, the debut LP by Arushi Jain, an India-born, US-residing composer, modular synthesist, vocalist, technologist, and engineer. At six songs spanning 48 minutes of ambient synth ragas intended to be heard during the sunset hours, Under the Lilac Sky invites the listener to transport themselves through intentional listening. Jain states, “You know that moment when the sun is bidding farewell to the sky, and the colors turn into beautiful hues of purple and pink and everything in between? That is the moment that this album will shine the most. The deeper you listen, the more shades you’ll see.”

Jain’s work focuses on reinterpreting traditional Indian classical music through the lens of electronic instrumentation. She re-contextualizes ancient sounds in a modern framework, carrying the torch of electronic luminaries such as Suzanne Ciani and Terry Riley while pursuing personal explorations of her musical heritage and upbringing. Under the Lilac Sky is a cinematic statement of intent, an album that reverently nods to Jain’s musical history while presenting a bold sonic point of view. Jain states, “This album is the coming together of two distinct cultures of Hindustani classical and modular synthesizers representing the two parts of me that evolved into one whole in between my time in India and California”

Voice is emphasized as an essential element of the album, not just for the lyrics or the melodies but also as a source of texture. It is most recognizable when Jain sings aalaaps or sargam of the different ragas the songs are composed in, however her voice is deeply embedded in other, sometimes quieter layers of the record. Jain, who spent her childhood studying indian classical as a vocalist says, “At any given point, there is at least one layer in the record that carries my voice. The human voice is powerful and unique to every individual. My voice is unique to me, so I decided it should be present at all times even if it’s unrecognizable.”

Another core theme of Under the Lilac Sky is the time of day, and the role it plays in influencing how one interacts with the music. “Intrinsic to Indian classical music is the concept of Time and Seasonality. For each raga, there is a specific time of the day when it is meant to be heard for it to shine in it’s authenticity. It harkens to the question of when the environment around you is most in tune with your own sound and breath, and how it supports you in realizing your vision of the moment. This album is meant to be an ode to those timely rituals, and is best heard while you take a moment to do what you love.”

Jain’s exploratory musical ethos finds a like-minded home within Leaving Records’ “All Genre” philosophy. Jain is acutely aware of her role as a composer and modular synthesist reinterpreting a historical art form. “For Indian classical music, this is atypical. The music I compose is inspired by a centuries old tradition, yet aestheticized in a novel way, using the tools and technical innovations of analog synth movements. My art is crafted using machines that I’ve slowly fallen in love with and made my own.”

WRWTFWW Records couldn't be happier to announce the release of Yutaka Hirose’s never-heard before 11-track collection TRACE: Sound Design Works 1986-1989, available on double LP and double CD, with liner notes from the artist.

TRACE is a collection of 11 unreleased tracks produced by Yutaka Hirose between 1986 and 1989, during the Sound Process Design sessions, right after the release of his classic Soundscape series album Nova. Sound Process Design was Satoshi Ashikawa's label, home of the Wave Notation trilogy (Hiroshi Yoshimura’s Music For Nine Postcards, Satsuki Shibano's Erik Satie 1866-1925 and Satoshi Ashikawa's Still Way). Following Wave Notation, Sound Process Design worked with museums, cafes and bars to create site-specific soundscapes, starting with the sound design of the Kushiro Museum. Yutaka Hirose was called to work on these projects.

Rather than simply providing pre-recorded compositions, Hirose sought to create a "sound scenery". To achieve this, he participated in the conception of the space and paid particular attention to the accidental combination of sounds by placing the speakers, using a multi-sound source, and following the concept of "sculpturing time through sound".

The composer explains: "sculpturing time through sound means that time, the space itself, the sound played in it, and the audience all become one sculpture. It is close to the idea of a Japanese tea ceremony where you use all of your 5 (or 6) senses to taste the tea."

TRACE: Sound Design Works 1986-1989 is divided into two parts. The Reflection segment is based on an ambient soundscape. It narrates "a sleep that starts with the sound of water droplets at dawn and slowly disappears into darkness" and feels like a natural and soothing progression of Nova. It was played in entrance halls, at events, in cafes and bars. The Voice from Past Technology segment expresses the dream world born out of that sleep and is based on what Yukata Hirose calls hardcore ambient, environmental music with a noise approach. It was played in museums and science centers.

All in all, TRACE is a crucial addition to every Japanese environmental music fan’s collection, alongside Midori Takada’s Through The Looking Glass, Hiroshi Yoshimura’s Green, Satoshi Ashikawa’s Still Way, Motohiko Hamase’s Notes of Forestry, Inoyamaland’s Danzindan-Pojidon, and Yutaka Hirose’s very own Nova.

Black Screen Records is excited to announce that Damián Sánchez' chill and joyful orchestral soundtrack to Crema's massively multiplayer creature-collection adventure Temtem will be available on limited edition 3xLP Picture Disc vinyl. You get 47 songs and the three starters Crystle, Smazee and Houchic in one beautiful trifold set with gorgeous artwork by Alex Muñoz and Cristina Jiménez. The vinyl and CD both come with a download card for the full digital soundtrack including all tracks. ABOUT THE SOUNDTRACK: Temtem's original game soundtrack is a melodic journey through the adventures on the Airborne Archipelago. A mixture of musical styles and flavors ranging from the chill and joyful orchestral sounds from Deniz to the most vivid and chrer-ish celtic dances from Arbury, through the folk and peacefulness of Omninesia, the mysterious glassy mallets of Tucma, the warm drums and flutes of Kisiwa, and the modern-versus-traditional Asian tunes in Cipanku. Discover the traditions of each isle through its instrumental palette and melodies, and vibe with the rhythms of the combat themes while you become the greatest Temtem tamer. The aim of this physical edition it's always been to give our fans not only another way of listening to Temtem's soundtrack, but to make a piece of art they would love to display on their shelves or even hang on a wall. Both teams at Crema and Black Screen Records worked really hard for a long time to cherry-pick the best ideas and come up with these incredibly beautiful editions. We are really proud of these products and we really hope you enjoy them! - Damián Sánchez ABOUT THE GAME: Temtem is a massively multiplayer online adventure where you'll get to explore the colorful and exciting Airborne Archipelago with all your friends and other players! Discover, tame and battle the Temtem that inhabit these islands, and maybe save the Archipelago in the process? Temtem offers a lengthy story campaign in a fully online world, and the possibility of playing the entire adventure in Co-op with a friend; a rich, complex, RNG-free combat experience, and competitively oriented gameplay, with challenges for all play styles; a bustling economy and trading environment; advanced character customization, housing and a myriad of ways to express yourself!