Cerca:even flow

The earth rotates, seasons change_there is but one long day_ Time is a beguiling, indistinct entity_sometimes standing still, sometimes bending back upon itself with premonitions or memories of the future. Growing out of a pen pal style correspondence that took place over the course of a year, separated by the Atlantic Ocean, Gloria de Oliveira and Dean Hurley passed thoughts and music back and forth that would eventually form their collaborative album, Oceans of Time. The result is an aural tapestry of that exchange: woven from conceptual threads of the celestial within, mortality and the realm beyond stars. The duo's partnership is an effortless merge, yet it's the steady presence of de Oliveira's vocals that endows the record with its sense of potency. Throughout the album, there is an innate understanding of how a lyric across a chordal color can sharpen an emotional truth. Much like a sunbeam that pierces a spiderweb to reveal its intricacy, her lyric and melody are purposely aimed in order to illuminate the truths deep within oneself_a process that ties us all to the universal. The Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard, a professed influence, wrote about the truth as something that was inherently subjective, less about the concrete reality of what is believed and more about how it is experienced by the believer. Frequent David Lynch collaborator Dean Hurley sets the tonal and sonic landscape of each track on the album, lending a layered ether that envelops, frames and holds de Oliveira's vocals. With its impressionistic synths, shimmering guitars, and ethereal sonics, Oceans of Time at moments recalls the foundational dreampop of 4AD acts like Cocteau Twins and Lush. The album feels especially attuned to the connections between the physical and transcendental realms, and the best dreampop has a way of making the veil between two worlds feel just a little bit thinner. Oceans of Time is a key that has the power to release its listener from the handcuffs of reality, however briefly_

The earth rotates, seasons change_there is but one long day_ Time is a beguiling, indistinct entity_sometimes standing still, sometimes bending back upon itself with premonitions or memories of the future. Growing out of a pen pal style correspondence that took place over the course of a year, separated by the Atlantic Ocean, Gloria de Oliveira and Dean Hurley passed thoughts and music back and forth that would eventually form their collaborative album, Oceans of Time. The result is an aural tapestry of that exchange: woven from conceptual threads of the celestial within, mortality and the realm beyond stars. The duo's partnership is an effortless merge, yet it's the steady presence of de Oliveira's vocals that endows the record with its sense of potency. Throughout the album, there is an innate understanding of how a lyric across a chordal color can sharpen an emotional truth. Much like a sunbeam that pierces a spiderweb to reveal its intricacy, her lyric and melody are purposely aimed in order to illuminate the truths deep within oneself_a process that ties us all to the universal. The Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard, a professed influence, wrote about the truth as something that was inherently subjective, less about the concrete reality of what is believed and more about how it is experienced by the believer. Frequent David Lynch collaborator Dean Hurley sets the tonal and sonic landscape of each track on the album, lending a layered ether that envelops, frames and holds de Oliveira's vocals. With its impressionistic synths, shimmering guitars, and ethereal sonics, Oceans of Time at moments recalls the foundational dreampop of 4AD acts like Cocteau Twins and Lush. The album feels especially attuned to the connections between the physical and transcendental realms, and the best dreampop has a way of making the veil between two worlds feel just a little bit thinner. Oceans of Time is a key that has the power to release its listener from the handcuffs of reality, however briefly_

“A piece of music never truly comes to An end. Revisiting a theme illustrates this idea that life goes on.” These are the words of Wayne Shorter, uttered in 2018 upon the release of Emanon, his final opus. On this record, the octogenarian uses dusky hues to shade in the passions of his youth - drawing and science-fiction, as well as the causes he has defended all his life - the fight against ecological upheaval and structural racism. This sentiment did not fail to resonate with Julien Lourau, who has reached a stage in life where he has begun to look back over certain pages written by the man he has always considered one of the masters of his trade. Five years later, this Parisian native has also chosen to revisit his glory days, offering reworked versions of specific tracks composed by his titular elder throughout the 80s. “When I play this music, I find myself back in my teenage bedroom. These are my standards, and they remind me of autumn in Rambouillet.” At that time, after practising his scales, Julien would also play Dungeons & dragons, and immerse himself in SF as well as heroic fantasy - epic influences which are not without a certain connection to the dreamworlds Shorter conjured up, as another fan of landscapes beyond the grasp of reality.

This album features four themes taken from Atlantis, which came out in 1985, and two from Joy Ryder, released three years later. To these, he has added a composition penned at around the same time for Sportin’ Life, the penultimate LP by Weather Report. This is rounded off by a tune taken

from Native Dancer, the record which, ten years earlier, in 1975, brought together this saxophonist who learnt his trade alongside Art Blakey, before joining Miles’ second quintet, and Brazilian Milton Nascimento.

“Between Native Dancer and Atlantis, Shorter did not release anything under his own name, but he took the time and care to really perfect his writing. Upon his return, he injected a very Brazilian form of subtlety into his compositions, especially rhythmically. And from a harmonic point of view, these themes are extremely sophisticated, and reveal truly singular colours. In fact, he decided to display the score as if it constituted the liner notes of Atlantis.”

Julien Lourau is a fan of every Wayne Shorter era, from his Blue Note days, where Mr Gone defined the bases of a truly unique repertoire, all the way to his final quartet - a reference like no other. He decided to focus on this “highly electric” period, which is not necessarily Shorter’s best known, nor his most widely appreciated - despite being a unanimous reference, Shorter has nonetheless never had a direct descendent. In Lourau’s line of sight there lies a desire to focus on typically South American tonic accents which characterise this repertoire, twinned with the ambition to switch up their actual sound “by attempting to open up onto a production highly influenced by eighties fusion". However, he admits that modifying the structures of these most unique of worlds constituted a fresh challenge. “There’s this labyrinthine harmonic system where you’ve no idea how it holds together, but where it’s actually impossible to touch the slightest element without the whole edifice wavering. It is in fact a very difficult thing to achieve!”

In order to successfully transcribe all this creativity free of obstacles, Julien Lourau once again called upon the help of Mathieu Debordes. From January 2023 onwards, Mathieu endeavoured to break down all the musical elements, on paper, before creating any actual music. The record was therefore constructed on the faith of these scores, without necessarily transiting through a creative residency - just two live gigs, to make sure the setup worked. Besides Mathieu Debordes and his synthesisers, Julien Lourau has assembled an ad hoc team by his side. On the bass, according to the track, we can hear erstwhile companion Sylvain Daniel or a new acolyte on the fretless bass, Joan Eche Puig.

Stéphane Edouard, on percussion, even dives headfirst into an unlikely proto-rap of sorts, on Pearl On The Half Shell (where, on the original version, Bobby McFerrin adjusted his interventions in a rather madcap style). Aesthete and drummer Jim Hart as well as pianist Leo Jassef also figure on this release - both were present on previous project devoted to label

CTI. “At sixteen, I wanted to sound like Michael Brecker rather than Ben Webster - that was equated with modernity in those days”, adds Julien with a smile, as for him, all this rings out a little like a logical next step, a joyful immersion into the fountain of youth. And if, for this record, he plays the soprano more than ever, the saxophone Shorter set in his sights on, he never tries to replicate an unattainable ideal note by note. What would be the point?

“Wayne Shorter is not just a saxophonist’s saxophonist. In fact, I don’t know a single person who has risen to challenge of his solos. I have not done it myself either, but on the other hand, I have retained a lot of his phraseology. His way of approaching the instrument reveals a more evanescent language, a work on colour and shape. Keeping this in mind has allowed me to gravitate towards certain elements, that in hindsight, I find echoes of in my work, even in Groove Gang.” Shorter etches out these phrases, creating a groove within which Lourau had traced subtle punctuation, managing, from a highly written base, to create fresh apertures, promises of a great escape. Emblematic of this standpoint, his regal version of Ponte de Areia, originally a wonderful dialogue between Milton Nascimento and Wayne Shorter. Here, the Frenchman takes liberties with the original melodies, without ever growing distant from the original spirit, extending one section with delicacy, offering a rubato development and then a groove “like a little suite”. Julien Lourau also renews with an accomplice from last century, Magic Malik, who lends his high-pitched vocals to the track. Though they had not recorded together for more than twenty years, the two of them got on as if they had only ceased collaborating yesterday, everything flowed naturally. The track was wrapped up in just one take, much like other themes, such as opener Who Goes There where the flautist deploys smooth, enchanted and smoky wisps.

Fundamentally, reflecting of the sleeve which features a child playing with a ball, image that could symbolise the sun just as much as the moon, Julien Lourau manages to translate the ambiguous candour which characterizes Shorter’s work - solar and crepuscular at the same time, that of a visionary and poet definitively situated outside of all chronology, but with whom Julien shares surprising and ‘timely’ coincidences. Shorter was born August 25, 1933, the same day as Julien’s father, “if we take time zones into account”, and who died on Lourau’s birthday, March 2, 2023. Should we take this as a random fact? Or could we not see here the sign of a destiny connecting the agnostic Frenchman to the man who, as a fervent Buddhist, believed in the transmission of his spiritual flow ?

Berlin-based Swedish bassist and producer Petter Eldh returns with a new Koma Saxo album Post Koma, out on We Jazz Records, 10 November. The title Post Koma aptly describes the vibe of this one: The Koma Saxo sound continues its evolution, morphing into a holistic vision of jazz now and soon, where live instrumentation and repurposed sampling lose their boundaries.

Over the course of its three iterations (self-titled debut in 2019, LIVE in 2020, Koma West in 2022) Koma Saxo has sounded at times "liquid" and postproduced, at times raw and direct, at times acoustic and at other times oddly electronic (even while still being made with acoustic instruments). Post Koma is a culmination of this sonic study by Eldh, resulting in a music vision that never second-guesses throwing tasty hooks and everlasting melodies out the window after a mere bite of them. But fear not: there are even more new ideas just around the corner.

Eldh's compositions and ideas merge together in a way that just flows. There are quality musicians in the mix, including Koma Saxo live band members Sofia Jernberg, Jonas Kullhammar, Otis Sandsjö, Mikko Innanen, Maciej Obara and Christian Lillinger, but that's like saying that a cake includes flour and sugar. This music is not about playing, it's essentially about how the music is and how it takes its shape, so you quickly lose track of who did what, and that's all in the benefit of encountering this music as an entity that is constantly challenging itself while moving forward. The musicians are valued contributors, and an integral part of what's here, but this is far from traditional jazz playing where a band sits in a room playing takes after takes of compositions on sheet.

That being said, this is jazz to the fullest. That is, music that understands its past but always moves forward, and is never afraid of taking risks. Petter Eldh uses jazz as a starting point, not the end goal. This gives his music edge and mobility beyond what can be contained on one album. In a way, an album, then, becomes a snapshot of a creative process in constant flux and evolution.

Opening track "Koma" is literally drum & bass. It only consists of those two elements, yet what comes out of it is an open invite, a way of clearing your palette. It would be useless to describe individual tracks beyond that, but there's a strong sense of deliverance to the set. It feels like an ending, and also like a new beginning.

Berlin-based Swedish bassist and producer Petter Eldh returns with a new Koma Saxo album Post Koma, out on We Jazz Records, 10 November. The title Post Koma aptly describes the vibe of this one: The Koma Saxo sound continues its evolution, morphing into a holistic vision of jazz now and soon, where live instrumentation and repurposed sampling lose their boundaries.

Over the course of its three iterations (self-titled debut in 2019, LIVE in 2020, Koma West in 2022) Koma Saxo has sounded at times "liquid" and postproduced, at times raw and direct, at times acoustic and at other times oddly electronic (even while still being made with acoustic instruments). Post Koma is a culmination of this sonic study by Eldh, resulting in a music vision that never second-guesses throwing tasty hooks and everlasting melodies out the window after a mere bite of them. But fear not: there are even more new ideas just around the corner.

Eldh's compositions and ideas merge together in a way that just flows. There are quality musicians in the mix, including Koma Saxo live band members Sofia Jernberg, Jonas Kullhammar, Otis Sandsjö, Mikko Innanen, Maciej Obara and Christian Lillinger, but that's like saying that a cake includes flour and sugar. This music is not about playing, it's essentially about how the music is and how it takes its shape, so you quickly lose track of who did what, and that's all in the benefit of encountering this music as an entity that is constantly challenging itself while moving forward. The musicians are valued contributors, and an integral part of what's here, but this is far from traditional jazz playing where a band sits in a room playing takes after takes of compositions on sheet.

That being said, this is jazz to the fullest. That is, music that understands its past but always moves forward, and is never afraid of taking risks. Petter Eldh uses jazz as a starting point, not the end goal. This gives his music edge and mobility beyond what can be contained on one album. In a way, an album, then, becomes a snapshot of a creative process in constant flux and evolution.

Opening track "Koma" is literally drum & bass. It only consists of those two elements, yet what comes out of it is an open invite, a way of clearing your palette. It would be useless to describe individual tracks beyond that, but there's a strong sense of deliverance to the set. It feels like an ending, and also like a new beginning.

Yearly compilation album RADAR by KEROXEN returns with its fourth volume in the ongoing series of themed based albums showcasing the talents and misfortunes of carefully selected musical projects based or connected with the Canary Islands.

With its first volume released in 2020 aiming to promote and divulge adventurous Island based music, the Keroxen imprint now presents Vol.4 with another showcase of the various insular musical scenes made in the outermost regions – in this case, a very rare incursion outside the Canary Archipelago by way of handpicking friends and colleagues working in the further most regions we can think of. A very special showcase then, featuring the Azores Islands, Reunion Island, Canary Islands and French Guiana - a true connection of likeminded minds whom demonstrate once again that you do not need to be in an western hipster mecca to make interesting work.

The presentation format sticks to its breakable rules, with each artist offering one track per side and the full thing of course wrapped up in Pura Marquez dizzying post-tropical art.

The album opens with the Julee Cruise inspired project Akane by Tenerife’s Carolina Machado where synth arpeggios intertwine organically with her soothing voice, setting the tone for Reunion Island’s Jako Maron and his unique take on local Maloya music by way of electrifying it into a trance like looping beat. Enter French Guyana’s Daryanna Jean unique sound artistry with sampling, cutting and pasting local(?) sounds into a disorientating needle jump glitch fest. Side A eventually closes with a very Azorean take on the very English hauntological sound by borrowing those pastoral melodies and synth riffs of yesterday and transposing it to the remote Sub-Tropical fields of São Miguel island, in the Azores, courtesy of Flipping Candy.

Side B emphatically reinforces the compilation’s original concept that no matter where you are, in this post internet, post everything world, outsider music thrives and keeps raising the invisible bar, true that!

Recital presents the first full-length vinyl LP by sound artist Asha Sheshadri. Whiplash combines elements of sound poetry, diary-like narrations, and delicate incidental music. Sheshadri has crafted a unique and marvelous album.

Asha Sheshadri is a visual artist and musician, who “meditates on meaning, context, and impermanence” (Joshua Kim). Moves freely between video, writing, sound, and photography. Her forms flow together to create unpredictable observations of the overlooked, while documenting personal and political networks within our collective, imperfect memory.

“This record is an alternate approach to the autobiographical ‘confessional’ – I wanted to stitch together some pivotal sketches in self-understanding and forgiveness. While their designs may seem affectively disparate, they are in fact quite interrelated. My intention (as with past recordings) is to task the listener with tracing the contours of the narrative (or lack thereof). Each track contains sound from video work, excerpts from writers I admire, ethnographic methods, recovered and recycled voice/text memos, photographs from personal and public archives, and research-driven fictions. These sources expand and collapse into each other, only to reveal the eponymous "whiplash". To me, the feeling of "whiplash" is the collision of: a refracted ambivalence towards what was once real, the endless cycle of reckoning with wherever "home" has taken place, the fraught process of anchoring one’s self in the wake of slow-release trauma, and how (if even possible) to translate all of this into artwork.” –Asha Sheshadri, 2023

“Place is security, space is freedom: we are attached to the one and long for the other. There is no place like home.” –Yi Fu Tuan, Space and Place: The Perspective of Experience.

All tracks arranged & recorded by Asha Sheshadri; in bedrooms, living rooms, libraries, bars, airplanes, backyards and parks across North America.
Mastered by Sean McCann.

In this accompanying remix set, "Earth 2.23: Special Lower Frequency Mix", the Bug has taken a bit of "Seven Angels" and laced it with feedback and big bass, allowing grime luminary Flowdan to climb atop it with his dark, staccato visions. Responsible for many transformational records himself, Justin K. Broadrick of Jesu and Godflesh crawls inside "Teeth" to lash at it with punishing drum machines and sordid layers of new distortion, building it into some brokedown palace of industrial mayhem. Loop's Robert Hampson makes good on the premise of ambient metal with his 30-minute hypnotic beauty, while longtime Earth cohort and longtime Built to Spill multi-instrumentalist Brett Netson seems to float the sound through a benighted graveyard on his clever "Teeth" revamp. These are not obvious directions for Earth's impact. Again, Earth 2 was never an obvious record. 30 years on, have we yet to grasp the enormity of Earth 2, an album that has continued its slow cycle of influence, uninterrupted? Probably not. Hell, most of us don't even know there are horses on the cover. VERY limited indies only LOSER copies pressed on lovely CURACAO BLUE vinyl!

Vladislav Delay presents the fourth EP in his "Hide Behind The Silence" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Intuitive and raw music, momentary and reflective, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

Stillness is a myth. Consider concepts such as ”still water”, or ”still air” for that matter. Go to a restaurant, ask them for a glass of still water, hold it against the light and see where we’re at. Even though the water itself has been captured and imprisoned in the glass, it never stops breathing. It’s filled with tiny particles, dancing. Everything can be explained on a molecular level, but since we’re not scientists – and even if you happen to be – it’s the natural world of perception that moves me.

Still air is very similar. A hot summer’s day with zero wind feels completely still. It’s the closest I have felt to complete stillness. Or for a more urban adaptation, imagine the same vibe inside a normal apartment. In those moments, revelations and mind- blowing experiences can be had with experiments in stillness.
Try this: Just sit down for a minute on a sunny day, making sure there’s enough natural light. Do absolutely nothing. Try not to breathe for a bit. (If you need a mental anchor, you can play Cage’s 4’33” in your head but nothing else.) Watch the tiny dots of dust dancing :..’ ̈.:; ́ ́*°.,’:,. ̈ ̈ ̈ ̈:,.’
The movement is crazy, but the feeling of stillness comes from witnessing how subtle it is. In (perceived) complete stillness, every act of microscopic mobility seems to speak volumes. Yet, it feels both reassuring and oddly threatening that the stillness is never complete. What if we would need absolute stillness? Or is it just enough that we can perceive something as such? Extremes attract, so for both water and air, extraordinary movement is equally fascinating. That is also a luxury item of sorts. For us to enjoy a very ”loud” body of water or air, we need to be safe, in enough control of the situation. So when you are, it’s worthwhile to pay attention and take it all in.
A rapid flowing free with extreme strength and just barely in control. Look at that water go! No still water on this one, only ”sparkling”. A windy day when birds seem surprised how hard it is to fly, but in the end they make it. Trees bend but don’t break. The wind shows you its movement but doesn’t hurt you. It feels friendly, like a big clumsy dog that doesn’t quite understand its size.
It’s beautiful to be a guest of the elements, but not at the mercy of them. A new kind of dialogue forms.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Hide Behind the Silence”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

Exploration of inaction. Of many kinds. In arts and in personal life, or at bigger and more serious levels. Questioning myself as a human being as well as an artist. Acknowledging the growing activism all around, and the very clear need for it, and how it reflects my own inaction.
Musically speaking, after Rakka, Isoviha and Speed Demon, I finally found some relief, but more importantly lost the need to go musically ever more outward and intensive. I felt quite strongly certain periods/moods from the past and they made me revisit some musical ideas or states of mind I was exploring early on.
It’s about live moments being captured, not much premeditation or editing. More intuitive and raw, even though the end result (to me) feels and sounds quite introspective and calm. It’s not very ambitious. Momentary and reflective.

2) Your music doesn’t sound very silent. Does it come from somewhere behind the silence?

Oh, this time to me it sounds quite quiet and playing with space if not silence. I don’t know what’s actually behind silence, but I think silence is the source of everything. We just don’t understand it yet.

3) What kind of thoughts or experiences gave inspiration to this series?

Writing this in Nov ’22, it’s not a stretch to say the world has been really unwell. Sometimes, like Mika Vainio put it, the world eats you up. I feel a bit like that. And I try to hide in my studio and stay away from it all, but it’s getting harder by the day. I’ve been questioning myself and thinking if what us artists are doing is worth anything, and whether it’s just a selfish thing I’ve been doing for the past 25 years, running away from everything. I haven’t come to a conclusion yet.

4) Is it easy for you to be in silence, or around silence?

Absolutely. I not only hide behind silence but I also love silence. It’s only since I started going back to nature as a grown-up person that I sensed and was enveloped by silence, true silence. I have begun to appreciate it a lot. I think all the people should spend more time in silence.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork by Marc Hohmann, photography by Shinnosuke Yoshimori.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

Repress!

In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.

Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.

Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytumcomosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”

But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.

The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.

“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.

Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.

Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’snew renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.

Teichmann + Söhne’s »Flows« is not so much the result of a collaborative process as it is a process in itself. Over the course of nine pieces, the Gebrüder Teichmann—Andi and Hannes—and their father Uli repeatedly find common ground between the very different musical styles, sound aesthetics, and subcultural codes they have internalised throughout their lives. The source material out of which the album evolved was culled from several recordings of rehearsal sessions in preparation for the trio’s concerts that took place between the years 2012 and 2022. The three added only a few overdubs to those recordings but edited them rigorously to both preserve and transform the spirit of their unlikely collaboration. The combination of Uli’s background as a versatile jazz artist and multi-instrumentalist with his sons’ penchant for dub techniques, modular synthesis, and live sampling as well as their interest in electronic dance music take on ever-different shapes. »Flows,« released on the occasion of Uli’s 80th birthday, is as joyful, lively and free-spirited as its makers.

It took the three musicians decades to get together to jam. Uli and Lu, the mother of Andi and Hannes, ran the legendary Jazzclub Kneiting between 1978 and 1983 while he also made a name for himself as a musician who, besides jazz, is knowledgeable in a plethora of music styles from all over the world and has an instrument collection to match. Naturally, Andi and Hannes rebelled against this versatility by opting for simplicity. Already as pre-teens, they formed a punk band and once they got a whiff of the burgeoning techno scene, strayed even further from their father’s path. They eventually moved from their native Regensburg to Berlin where they made a name for themselves with a slew of releases on seminal labels like Disko B or Kompakt before starting to more regularly collaborate with musicians from the realms of Contemporary Music, Improv, and Sound Art. Even after Uli had finally contributed some saxophone licks to the brother’s 2011 »They Made Us Do It« LP, it indeed needed someone else to make them do it, i.e. finally get together to reconcile their musical differences in a creative way.

Finding out that the three had never performed together, Yoichi Osaki from Berlin’s iconic Miss Hecker venue, a focal point of the city’s so-called Echtzeitmusik (real-time music) and Improv scene, scheduled them to play their first concert on April 1, 2012. Even though the date was chosen deliberately, things got serious very quickly and this first joint concert proved to be the first of many. It also laid the foundation for »Flows« since the three would start recording their rehearsals. Revisiting the roughly 90 recordings, some of which clock in at a full hour, after ten years of playing with each other then started what Hannes describes as a »form-finding process.« It was a holistic one and involved all three of them, extending also to their choice of cover artwork, a piece created by Lu, who died in 2016 and to whom the album is dedicated. For the collage, she had used photos of the place where it all began, Regensburg, and the river that flows through it, the Danube. This made the piece, coincidentally created around the time Teichmann + Söhne started playing their first concerts together, correlate perfectly with the working process of the three musicians on a visual level.

Similarly, Teichmann + Söhne can be thought of as a human-musical collage. It is a meeting of three different musicians who all have in common that they have occupied alternative spaces and perfected a variety of musical styles and subcultural codes throughout their lives. When those flow into each other, this necessarily creates something that is as unique as the nine tracks collected on this album. While it is mostly Uli who takes the lead on pieces like the appropriately titled »Im Zwischen« (»In the Inbetween«), the brothers respond by live sampling his playing, thus serving as a creative interface between acoustic sounds and electronic responses. This in turn provides a framework in which Uli can improvise on a variety of acoustic instruments like the saxophone and the clarinet as well as a mandolin and glockenspiel or even percussion. This indeed makes their music flow—across different generations, between different musical ideas and genres, into previously uncharted territory.

The debut recording by Setting, a trio comprising Nathan Bowles (solo/trio, Pelt, Black Twig Pickers); Jaime Fennelly (Mind Over Mirrors, Peeesseye); and Joe Westerlund (solo, Califone, Sylvan Esso, Jake Xerxes Fussell). Deluxe LP edition features 140g black virgin vinyl and a reverse board jacket with art by Timothy Breen. Deluxe CD edition features a gatefold jacket with art by Timothy Breen. RIYL: Popol Vuh, Brian Eno’s Ambient 4, Harmonia, The Necks. Setting, befitting its name which can be read as noun or verb, and simultaneously suggests the sun, or any star in the firmament from our earthbound perspective; a story and its surroundings, its scenic context or mise en scène; or a psychedelic experience, as in the prescription to mind one’s “set and setting” arose outdoors, uncontained and unconstrained by architecture. The group’s debut recording Shone a Rainbow Light On traverses textural, phosphorescent topography with a certified organic folk-engine. Kosmische correspondences are inevitable and valid, but also somewhat deceptive, given this meditative music’s terrestrial rootedness in the familiar natural world, more in native humus and humidity than in outer space. Fuelled by a vibratory hybrid of acoustic and electronic instrumentation, these four stately longform pieces sound like a UFO slowly sinking into a peat bog (or, as we call it in North Carolina, a pocosin). An instrumental trio comprising Nathan Bowles (solo/trio, Pelt, Black Twig Pickers) on strings, keys, and percussion; Jaime Fennelly (Mind Over Mirrors, Peeesseye) on harmoniums, synthesizers, and piano zither; and Joe Westerlund (solo, Califone, Sylvan Esso, Jake Xerxes Fussell) on drums, percussion, and metallophones, Setting established its own setting and found its footing in regularly scheduled improvisational sessions outside Westerlund’s home in Durham, North Carolina, beginning in 2021. The three players began as two, in the context of occasional Bowles and Westerlund percussion duo performances dating back to 2018. Fennelly provided the initial impetus to gather and play together with intentionality and discipline, as well as an harmonic adhesive and thickening agent in the grain and gravity of his harmonium and synthesizer. As always, Bowles’s background as a pianist and drummer informs his approach to banjo, imparting a woodiness, a piney verticality and resinous tang. Westerlund’s training with Milford Graves is apparent in his polyrhythmic flow and its correspondences to human circulatory and corporeal rhythms. They recorded their collective discoveries with engineer Nick Broste in the spring of 2022.The record begins, like the group’s name, and like the language of its unique instrumental interplay, with ambiguous grammar: “We Center,” the first and longest track at thirteen and a half minutes, builds patiently to a percolating climax of tidal heaving, with ceremonial connotations. “Zoetropics,” the shortest piece, follows, offering a more diaphanous counterpoint to the density of its predecessor. The zithery, shivering “A Sun Harp,” its title redolent of Sun Ra, showcases Westerlund’s unfettered drumming, which skitters restlessly until anchored, at its conclusion, by a minor bass progression. Finally, “Fog Glossaries” exhales through the maritime and meteorological evocations of its title, distant buoys clanging. Although certainly elements and strategies of so-called ambient and drone musical traditions are invoked and deployed, those diffuse terms feel inadequate to describe everything else happening here: the devotional valences, the minimalist rigor, and even submarine jazz inclinations perceptible beneath the surface. Throughout this four-movement program, which invites deep listening, it is often difficult to differentiate individual instruments from the massed choir of the group’s unified sonic presence. At times what sound like field recordings cicadas, birds, wind, water splash out of this slow but powerful current, only to be revealed as overtones produced by harmonium, banjo, or cymbals. Setting’s sound is fundamentally synthetic in the sense of synthesis, not artifice—in a manner remarkable for its almost entirely acoustic arsenal of instrumentation, often registering as the product of a single alien technology, perhaps the rainbow lights of that bog-marooned UFO. (“Setting,” of course, can also refer to a machine’s variable operational amplitude its temperature, volume, speed, elevation, etc.) Sometimes the most seemingly extraterrestrial lifeforms are in fact our unfamiliar earthbound neighbors. Despite the destruction of many such habitats, the coastal plains of eastern, tidewater North Carolina is home to more pocosins freshwater, evergreen wetlands with deep, acidic, sandy, peat soils than anywhere else in the world. These threatened peat-bog ecosystems are the only native environment to sustain the carnivorous Venus flytrap, among other oddities. The sonic ecosystem of Setting similarly deep, acidic, and boggy contains equivalent wonders, savage and delicate, for listeners willing to take the time to sink.

The band who has become Sweden's most addictive rock'n'roll export is now rereleasing its fourth album Club Majesty in a special neon pink vinyl edition, on the occasion of its four year anniversary.

Plenty of people have tried to label the band. Garage rock, pop rock, kung-fu rock and even Chuck Norris rock are all tags that have been devised for Royal Republic's punchy, propulsive brand of rock'n'roll.

With their fourth album Club Majesty, 'disco rock' has been added to the mix. "I love the word 'disco'," singer Adam Grahn says. "But some people will say 'but you're a rock band!' We're a band. I never knew what to call us."

If you like Royal Republic, you'll love Club Majesty. And for the uninitiated - rock fan, pop lover, metal-head or otherwise - you've arrived at an excellent time. All are welcome here, so step inside...

The six members of The Howdies each bring a unique musical background that combines to create a singular sound. Their Athens, Ga home has long been an artistic haven for all genres of music and an open forum for shared expression.

The result is a place where outsiders flourish and the rules of musical tradition are often bent or even broken with a wink and a smile. Produced by David Barbe and T. Hardy Morris and recorded at Chase Park Transduction, only Athens could create a group like The Howdies and a record like Howdies All Around. A little bit loose, a little bit home made but over flowing with the love of friendship and the sheer joy of creating something new.

Lucky number 17? You better believe it. We here at Brown Acid have been scouring the highways and byways of America for even more hidden stashes of psych/garage/proto-punk madness from the so-called Aquarian Age. There’s no flower power here, though—just acid casualties, rock stompers and major freakouts. As always, the songs have been officially licensed, and all the artists get paid. Kicking off this trip, Grapple’s “Ethereal Genesis” is a heavy psych gem from 1969 written by J. Bruce Svoboda, a.k.a. Jay Bruce, formerly of The Hangmen and The Five Canadians (who were actually the same San Antonio band). The latter’s 1966 garage favorite “Writing on the Wall” has been endlessly covered, but Grapple were never heard from again. With a guitar riff that blatantly rips off Sabbath’s “Black Sabbath,” Image’s mostly instrumental lysergic obscurity “Witchcraft ’71” (originally unveiled that very year) also boasts a horror-movie organ intro, a voodoo drum break and some championship chanting. Private press heads might recall late Image drummer John Beke from his ’80s reemergence with country rockers Crossfyre. Stone Hedge were a seven-piece rock band out of Michigan with a penchant for Creedence and anthropomorphism. “Smokey Bear” is their 1972 tribute to the official mascot of the U.S. Forest Services—not to mention the A side of their sole single—and it recalls the kind of organ-drenched swamp jam that soundtracked many a Burt Reynolds flick back in the day. If you think being a Southern rock band from Milwaukee doesn’t make much sense, that’s probably why Crossfire changed their sound along with their name—to Bad Boy—after signing with United Artists. Bad Boy’s severely underappreciated second album, Back To Back, is a 1978 hard rock jewel, but you can hear their boogie-woogie roots on this rare 1975 single. With a band name like Primevil and song title like “Too Dead To Live,” you probably expect some gnarly proto-metal riffage. Instead, you a get a harmonica-drenched, soul-infused rock rave-up from 1972. Primevil would release their sole LP two years later: Entitled Smokin’ Bats at Campton’s, it’s a reference to their trusty singer, harp player (and bat smoker?), Dave Campton. Brown Acid regulars already know Pegasus from their appearance with “The Sorcerer” on our Seventh Trip. “Ready to Rave” is the flipside to that 1972 single, in which they explain how they like their whiskey cold and their women hot. It’s another killer glimpse of what might have been if these one-and-done Baltimore hard rockers had been able to keep it together. One of two obscure singles released by Texas musician Bobby Mabe in 1969 (the other appears under the name The Outcasts), “I’m Lonely” delivers a heavy dose of vocal soul to the otherwise psych-garage presentation. Fans of fellow Houstonians the Moving Sidewalks—whom Bobby and his Outcasts may well have gigged with—will especially dig this one. Cedar Rapids, Iowa, may not be known as a cultural mecca, but they did give us Truth & Janey. This deadly hard rock trio delivered their holy grail full-length, No Rest for the Wicked, back in 1976. “Around and Around” is a Chuck Berry cover that originally appeared on a 1973 single the band released under the earlier name Truth. Originally released in 1973, “High School Letter” is the debut single from San Diego rock squad Glory. This infectious bonehead cruncher features future Beat Farmer Jerry Raney and the original rhythm section of Iron Butterfly in bassist Greg Willis and drummer Jack Pinney. Glory is what they got up to after their former bandmates left for L.A.’s garden of Eden. “Jack the Ripper” is a mercilessly bootlegged Cleveland classic from 1978 with a serrated punk edge and vocals that recall Mick Blood of Aussie savages the Lime Spiders. Or maybe it’s the other way around—the Lime Spiders formed the year after Strychnine carved off this lethal paean to the infamous Whitechapel slasher of olde.

"Tale Spinnin'" - Joe Zawinul (keyb, perc, voc); Wayne Shorter (ts, ss); Alphonso Johnson (b); Alyrio Lima (perc); Leon "Ndugu" Chandler (dr)
»We played music that people listened to every day just as they watch the news every evening, music which changed constantly - just like the weather«, reminisced Joe Zawinul when talking about coming up with a name for the group. This would probably frighten off listeners in today's mass market. But back in those days CBS was satisfied with the group's sound being somewhat similar to the Miles Davis Combo and offered them a recording contract without carrying out the usual sound check. The magic potion "Bitches Brew", which Zawinul and Wayne Shorter had conjured up with Miles Davis, was promising of exhilarating new things to come.
The heart-stopping mix of motivic fixed points and exciting improvisations, »the sketchy melodies, all that a synthesizer and other similar electronic devices could offer, combined with a Milky Way of rhythms« (Der Spiegel) was the pathway down which the group went - without ever becoming pure routine. The fifth album, "Tale Spinnin'", is captivating for its wealth of distinctive, often warm, synthesized sounds, which are further enhanced by Wayne Shorter's bright, twangy soprano saxophone, lending it a jazzy aura. To be sure, this gripping jazz fusion never progresses steadily all the time, but takes up snatchy, though seemingly familiar, melodic ingredients and combines them to produce a new mixture. "Badia", however, is completely different: a quietly flowing and totally rhythmic ethnic work, which today would be classified as World Music.

Northern California psychedelic sorcerers Carlton Melton are brain surfers, mind trippers, … “psychlists,” if you prefer. The band will take your head for a ride, occasionally rushing at superluminal speeds through a wormhole or gliding softly on a gentle breeze in a leafy glade. Sometimes your brain needs to rage, and sometimes it needs to repose. For a decade and a half, the band has yo-yo’ed, almost schizophrenically, between these two modes: walloping space jams with furious guitar solos in one hemisphere of the brain and ethereal, feather-light splashdowns in the other. Not to mention a track here and there that builds from the latter into the former. But with two new releases in 2023, the band has evolved. Whether psych rock or ambient trance, their sound remains driving, organic, and flowing. With the addition of Anthony Taibi (White Manna, DDT), however, the group’s metal freak-outs are Hawkwindier and their droning kraut trances are Spacemen 3-er. In January, the quartet released the playfully spacey Resemble Ensemble, recorded in Taibi’s home studio 3D Light. October now sees the band Turn To Earth, a work with scents of Autumn, a season of death and transition. The cover art evokes a vine-covered, electric crucifix. The sound is, well, earthy but also gritty and striving towards change. The album was recorded in Fall 2022 and now harvested in Fall 2023. Phil Becker (Terry Gross, Pins Of Light) contributed drums and percussion to a few tracks on Turn To Earth, recording the album at El Studio in San Francisco.

With Becker at the helm, the synths have become more prominent (“Cosmicity,” “Roboflow,” “Migration”) and the tone heavier on the doom (“Cloudstorming,” “Unlock The Land,” title track): several moments could even serve as background music for epic dark fantasy films like Conan the Barbarian, Fire and Ice, or Heavy Metal. As exquisite as Turn To Earth is, Melton are best appreciated as a live act: their recordings as well as their gigs are largely improvised – not so much composed as birthed. And yet their most recent tour ended abruptly and perilously. The group had to cancel its final three shows once members were admitted to Arnhem hospital in the Netherlands. Five years later, reinforcements have strengthened the band and restocked its arsenal of great tracks. After the rockus interruptus of that 2018 tour and the tantric tease of the intervening Covid lockdown, Melton have some unfinished business. An October 2023 tour is poised to set the freshly minted quartet back onto the stages of Europe and within the cerebral folds of its fans. Turn To Earth, sure … but keep your head in outer space. Carlton Melton is: andy duvall – drums/gtr; clint golden – bass; rich millman – gtr/synth; and anthony taibi – synth/gtr.

In order to record the compositions in his critically acclaimed 2022 release GOLD, Alabaster DePlume instilled a culture of creativity by leading his ensembles In spontaneous composition and development. This resulted in an abundance of material that he has since produced and arranged, resulting in this collection.

Greece’s ecstatic ritual singer, pianist, and ambient composer Maroulita de Kol announces her debut album Anásana, a record of deeply traditional Hellenic ceremonial cultures interwoven with contemporary experimental colour.

Athens-raised, Berlin-based Maroulita de Kol creates music formed from the ancient, pre-Christian rites and practices of Greece, newly re-presented through a contemporary lens. A former student of classical piano and voice, an unbreakable bond with her homeland


yielded an extensive and ongoing dive into the mythologies, arts and storytelling of ancestral Greece. These studies eventually guided her to the debut solo works that make up Anásana.

The instrumentation and themes of Anásana borrow both from the ancient ecstatic ritual of historical Greece and meditative electronic ambient music. Flowing lines of deeply learned piano technique clothe traditional Hellenic folksong. And while its imagery was unmistakably born in Greece, its tones are inflected by de Kol’s time in Berlin and her immersion in its electronic and experimental scenes. “My music is an act of freedom and beauty,” she explains. “Hymns that aim for the restoration of Women's faith; they can heal the collective wound of the feminine.”

Paolo Mosca makes intricate, multi-layered electronic music. Inspired by the early club sound pushed by the pioneers from his home region Veneto, he fuses house, trance and ambient - and moves forward. The Metaphysics EP displays the artist's passion and ingenuity, unfolding technical skill that makes clear his studio clock is set to 2023 and not 1993. On "Luciddreams" a statically charged beat and organ bass work up a groove. Accompanied by a misty pad and a slow, pensive arpeggiator, it pulses towards the break: there an acid line emerges, finds its spot in the mix, and refuels the track. "Energia" draws from a bolder, more euphoric range. Hand drums, a glittering lead and airy yet restrained chords float soaked in reverb and delay. A lean bass sequence tightly keeps the rhythm as flanged claps and subtly positioned sweeps create extra movement. The second side's opener, "Under the sea" features a formant filter lead meandering within the sweaty framework of heavily gated choir pads and a frugal bassline that eventually gets layered with an M1. Modulated vocals and strokes of additional melody ensure the stereo field again gets used to its full capacity. "Acqua" is a fitting coda. Some familiar patches are deployed over a tumbling beat that takes charge of the pace from the get-go. The palette might seem bright and blissful, but as always, the track's latticework contains enough contrast for a slight feeling of melancholy to keep simmering beneath. Mosca cited his meditation routine, how it helps him materialize ideas and thoughts, as a main drive upon finishing this record. The Metaphysics EP is a ruminative work. Comprised of four explorations in deftly manipulating energy with due attention to balance and momentum, it easily flows between genres, details darting in and out, showing the artist's understanding of composition and dance music history. It is a deep-dive selection of club-oriented cuts we are excited to release on Altered Circuits.

Bristol's soul jazz kings The Jazz Defenders release a new vinyl 45 single this autumn as a taster for their third album, which is destined for release in spring 2024. Once again, they are bringing together their love of 1960's soul jazz and golden era 90's hip-hop, just as they did on a couple of tracks on their last album "King Phoenix" (Haggis Records 2022). This new single sees them reunited with London MC/rapper Doc Brown, who guested on the track "Perfectly Imperfect", and his flow sits so naturally over the Jazz Defenders' music and beats, you'd think he's a permanent band member.

The A-side "Rolling On A High" is a real old school boom bap style party hip-hop jam. Big beats, rolling bassline (acoustic double bass), Ramsey Lewis soul jazz piano vamps, funky Hammond organ and some punchy horn section business, all topped off with Doc Brown bouncing bars back and forth with that laid back vibe he always brings to the mic. A guaranteed dance-floor bomb, whether you're a breaker, a jazz dancer or simply a Saturday night disco shuffler. The B-side "Looking Back" takes the tempo right down. An 'end of the night' number when the lights in the club are low, the last drinks are being drained and you're thinking and reminiscing about times gone by. The good times and bad, successes and mistakes. And made even more poignant and reflective halfway through when the mellow strings come into the song (once again excellently arranged by pianist/bandleader George Cooper). If "Rolling On A High" is the fire then "Looking Back" is definitely the ice. Proof that the Jazz Defenders can rock the party and grab the dancers but also dig deep with emotive tunes that draw in the discerning listener.

The Jazz Defenders, led by keyboard maestro George Cooper from The Haggis Horns, have been building a reputation as a great musical unit since their debut Blue Note/hard bop-inspired album "Scheming" appeared on Haggis Records back in 2019, which received a huge amount of praise from critics, and subsequently went on to spend 5 weeks in the top ten of the American jazz charts In 2021, their double A-side vinyl single "The Big Man/Love's Vestige" got them the breakthrough they deserved. It garnered heavy support on radio from top folks like Craig Charles (BBC6 Music), Helen Mayhew (Jazz FM), Jamie Cullum (BBC Radio 2), and Worldwide FM resident DJ's Ashley Beedle and Colin Curtis. They further enhanced their reputation as a rocking band with album number two "King Phoenix" and by electrifying audiences at sold out live shows across the UK, including the legendary Ronnie Scott's Jazz Club in London.

Album number three is well on its way but for now, check out this tasty limited edition 45 single on Haggis Records. The JDs and Doc Brown...the perfect combination, still keeping that sweet jazz/hip-hop love affair alive today.

Legendary 2010’s indie band Crocodiles’ guitarist Charles Rowell’s new synthpop-meets-gothic rock project. Think Nick Cave crooning over Martin Rev’s minimal electronics or The Lords of the New Church-era Stiv Bators jamming with Wayne Hussey and Douglas Pearce.

After relocating from New York to France, Charles Rowell began stuffing his suitcase with various synths and samplers while taking cheap bus rides to bordering countries.

While living out of a hotel in north east Paris, he played his demos for Third Coming Records who quickly released the Bad Trip EP in 2020. Concerts became more frequent after the pandemic, with the release of Spellwound and a few have become infamous with guitars smashed to pieces, broken glasses, unruly audience front flipping onto the stage.

With Paris providing the background and a scene of friends such as avant-garde drag artist Tuna Mess and industrial techno veteran Poison Point who pushed his creativity even further, Crush Of Souls constant spirit is that it remains unpredictable and thrives on collaboration.
This is even more true with his upcoming album (A)Void Love.

Written over a period of intense insomnia that coincided with a run of shows playing guitar for Australian legend Harry Howard, Crush Of Soul’s main man Charles Rowell finally found rest after writing and recording the last song entitled World of Fear. Six months prior he had quit his job as a chef, traveled east to Prague for inspiration and returned ragged and sleepless.
Rowell’s insistence on keeping the instrumentation simple and clean came from an arduous two years of literal blood, sweat and tears. Every bit of drama, eastern excursion and sleep psychosis can be found within the walls of (A)Void Love.

Acoustic guitars and dramatic synths provide a cold wilderness for the various rhythms to inhabit; touches of minimal electronics, cold wave and synth pop can be found while the song writing remains classic for lovers of Echo & the Bunnymen and Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds.

There’s always been a thread of synth-punk, death rock and DIY noise running through all of Charles’ projects (Crocodiles, ISSUE, Flowers of Evil), however Crush Of Souls pushes harder and further into the darkness with the new album ‘(A)Void Love’.

GAF are back!!! This time under their Estrella de la Muerte configuration and with a gateway musical behemoth double album into the cosmic unknown.
The prolific project, helmed by local Canarian anchorman Mladen Kurajica, dwells deep into esoteric rock genres and this time, they waste no time in plunging the listener into their brave new type of cosmic rock with a deeply influenced krautrock voyage of 70’s jamming and psychonautic exploration.
Recorded over three days in the cultural space of El Tanque, Santa Cruz de Tenerife, at the height of the covid pandemic of 2020 and during one of the hottest summers to date, the band entered the space with no plan in mind deciding instead to approach the recording sessions without any preconceived ideas or pre-composed songs. Clean out of external influences and ready to experiment they loaded in all their available gear, including an array of modular synths, in order to create a new approach to song writing and flesh out some ideas for a future album in situ. The very process of that search, through pure improvisation and jamming, became the album we’re presenting here.
No overdubs or subsequent edits were done, except for cutting some songs so that they could fit on the album. Almost 5 hours of recordings in total, finally reaching a 7 track, 69-minute double LP. All the reverb heard on the record is the natural reverb of El Tanque, a 16 second tail natural reverb recorded with several room mics at different locations in the venue. Eventually this became the first fully instrumental album by the Estrella de la Muerte configuration, with a line up of 7 musicians (Gaf y Estrella de la Muerte are normally a sextet).
Enter then, this inspired selection of psychedelically damaged tunes, 70’s space rock, psychoacoustics and Kosmishe inspired jamming. This is healing music for your mind altering journeys. The titled Pyramids here serving not only as a gateway to the cosmic unknown but also as an exploratory symbol of the bands willingness to freely embrace their subconscious inner flows into a cosmic collective. Ecstatic music for our times!

Four years after they went all the way to Antarctica, Flat Worms are back in gen pop with the rest of us - but, as intoned on the album opener "Sigalert," "back again like I never was." Is this a nod to the way time passes over our sorely vexed synapses? Or are we to believe that there"s hope to be found in this broken world? Kick back with Witness Marks and see what other traces Flat Worms have left us in the dust. The album title alone leaves a foreboding impression. But look closer - "witness marks" aren"t something out of a forensic analysis - they"re actually practical; scratches placed in old clocks designed to aid continued maintenance further in time. Sure, there"s big questions and more on the board; primarily if we"re at all distinct from the absurdity coming down around us, or just another character in the mirror? Flat Worms are looking inward this time, outlining personal space in relation to themselves and others - sometimes even people they barely know. Among the slabs of slategrey outrage, the flowers of compassion are blooming, and the simmering power of their trio grows exponentially. Working once again with Ty Segall, Flat Worms continue to find new answers by digging into themselves and playing their kind of rock: hard and flat, bass and drums thrusting stalwartly forward with conviction, guitar twisting and spinning in outrage, deadpan vocals decrying a dire set of circumstances. The democracy of working together, so often messy and frustrating, was found to be a powerful release for Justin, Tim and Will. Acting as one, Flat Worms navigated challenging times by coming together, finding release in the clockwork repetitions of practice and the shared creative space they occupied together against the encroaching world. In the short century of their existence, Flat Worms have agitated against the status quo with a disquieting lyric bent, to emphasize the psychosis of the times. These are positions taken within songs, sung out to individuals in the world. As evidenced by the lyrics, "But I know I can always see you at the show Even though it"s only temporary and it"s time to go." . . .Witness Marks surveys an evolving sense of community. Flat Worms are dedicated to persevering and using the power of their collective. Come witness!

Four years after they went all the way to Antarctica, Flat Worms are back in gen pop with the rest of us - but, as intoned on the album opener "Sigalert," "back again like I never was." Is this a nod to the way time passes over our sorely vexed synapses? Or are we to believe that there"s hope to be found in this broken world? Kick back with Witness Marks and see what other traces Flat Worms have left us in the dust. The album title alone leaves a foreboding impression. But look closer - "witness marks" aren"t something out of a forensic analysis - they"re actually practical; scratches placed in old clocks designed to aid continued maintenance further in time. Sure, there"s big questions and more on the board; primarily if we"re at all distinct from the absurdity coming down around us, or just another character in the mirror? Flat Worms are looking inward this time, outlining personal space in relation to themselves and others - sometimes even people they barely know. Among the slabs of slategrey outrage, the flowers of compassion are blooming, and the simmering power of their trio grows exponentially. Working once again with Ty Segall, Flat Worms continue to find new answers by digging into themselves and playing their kind of rock: hard and flat, bass and drums thrusting stalwartly forward with conviction, guitar twisting and spinning in outrage, deadpan vocals decrying a dire set of circumstances. The democracy of working together, so often messy and frustrating, was found to be a powerful release for Justin, Tim and Will. Acting as one, Flat Worms navigated challenging times by coming together, finding release in the clockwork repetitions of practice and the shared creative space they occupied together against the encroaching world. In the short century of their existence, Flat Worms have agitated against the status quo with a disquieting lyric bent, to emphasize the psychosis of the times. These are positions taken within songs, sung out to individuals in the world. As evidenced by the lyrics, "But I know I can always see you at the show Even though it"s only temporary and it"s time to go." . . .Witness Marks surveys an evolving sense of community. Flat Worms are dedicated to persevering and using the power of their collective. Come witness!

With drummer Kenny Wollesen (Tom Waits, John Zorn, Norah Jones) and Dave Harrington (of electronic duo Darkside) guitar/bass/electronics, New York-based Swedish/Turkish saxophonist, composer, club-label owner Ilhan Ersahin captures the vibe of impromptu, cross- pollinating, and heavily grooving late- night jam sessions at Nublu, his "East Village Club where everything goes" (New York Times).

The telepathy and intuition that flows between these three musicians is one that has developed over many years of playing together in different combinations, and on a permanent regular basis at NYC's Nublu, searching and creating together in the moment. What they have come up with has evolved steadily over that time and its current form can be heard to brilliant effect on their debut album "Invite Your Eye"

The exploratory instrumental space- jazz these gentlemen purvey has many antecedents and influences but perhaps it's best not to cite names and instead et the music speak for itself. This sound and approach comes as naturally to them as breathing, hence the album title which is also the title of the first single.

Woods are in bloom again, inviting you to disappear into a new spectrum of colors and sounds and dreams on Perennial. Formed in Brooklyn in 2004, Woods have matured into a true independent institution, above and below the root, reliably emerging every few years with new music that grows towards the latest sky. Operating the Woodsist label since 2006 and curating the beloved homespun Woodsist Festival for the musical universe they’ve built, Perennial is the sound of a band on the edge of their 20th anniversary and still finding bold new ways to sound like (and challenge) themselves. Perennial grew from a bed of guitar/keyboard/drum loops by Woods head-in-chief Jeremy Earl, a form of winter night meditation that evolved into an unexplored mode of collaborative songwriting. With Earl’s starting points, he and bandmates Jarvis Taveniere and John Andrews convened, first at Earl’s house in New York, then at Panoramic House studio in Stinson Beach, California, site of sessions for 2020’s Strange To Explain. With a view of the sparkling Pacific and tape rolling, they began to build, jamming over the loops, switching instruments, and developing a few dozen building blocks. The album’s resulting 11 songs, 4 of them instrumental, are in the classic Woods mode--shimmering, familiar, fractionally unsettling--but with the half-invisible infinity boxes of Earl’s loops burbling beneath each like a mysterious underground source. From source to seed to bloom, each loop unfolds into something unpredictable, from the jeweled pop of the aching “Little Black Flowers” to the ecstatic starlit freak-beat of “Another Side.” They are blossomings both far-out and comforting, like the Mellotronic cloud-hopping of “Between the Past,” or sometimes just plain comforting, like the widescreen snowglobe fantasia of the instrumental “White Winter Melody,” touched by Connor Gallaher’s pedal steel. Woods have long used the studio as a place of songwriting, naming 2007’s At Rear House after their shared dwelling and recording space. But Perennial also carries with it an even longer view of Woods. Emerging from the process alongside the music was Earl’s reflection that “perennial plants and flowers are nature’s loops,” an idea rolling under the album’s lyrics like the loops themselves. It certainly applies to the band, too, who have quietly tended to a long, committed project of being a band in the weird-ass 21st century, both individually and communally. Though separated by coasts, the communal sprit carries through Earl, Taveniere, and Andrews’ collaboration, a living embodiment of the freedoms rediscovered every time a new collectively created piece of music emerges. For nearly two decades, Woods have survived subgenres, anchored in the fertile soil below hashtags like lo-fi and freak-folk and psychedelic and indie, and built a shared history that’s something to marvel at. As the flagship band for Woodsist, they’ve accumulated a striking extended family of collaborators (and Woods alum) that have made the label one of the most dependable imprints in the kaleidoscopic low-key underground. It’s a glow that’s transferred whole to the blissed-out Woodsist Fests held in Accord, New York in recent years, which have folded in a wide range of diverse sounds, from the the jazz cosmoverse of the Sun Ra Arkestra and adventurous legends Yo La Tengo, to a hard-to-even-count family tree of contemporaries, like Kevin Morby (who served a few tours of duty as Woods bassist) and Kurt Vile (who released his 2009 debut on Woodsist), a living community in sound. Perennial carries all of this, shaped by decades, but made in the moment, and here right now. The smell of the flowers doesn’t remain, but sometimes the flowers do. Jesse Jarnow Recorded and mixed by Jarvis Taveniere at Panoramic House in Stinson Beach, CA with additional recording at The Ship in Los Angeles, CA and Cottekill Bird Sanctuary in Stone Ridge, NY. Produced by Jarvis Taveniere and Jeremy Earl. Mastered by Timothy Stollenwerk at Stereophonic Mastering in Portland, OR. Jeremy Earl - vocals, guitars, drums, percussion, sk-5, mellotron, vibraphone, autoharp, loops Jarvis Taveniere - guitar, bass, upright bass, hammond, vocals John Andrews - piano, organs, mellotron, drums, vocals Connor Gallaher - Pedal Steel Kyle Forester - sax, wurlitzer

Woods are in bloom again, inviting you to disappear into a new spectrum of colors and sounds and dreams on Perennial. Formed in Brooklyn in 2004, Woods have matured into a true independent institution, above and below the root, reliably emerging every few years with new music that grows towards the latest sky. Operating the Woodsist label since 2006 and curating the beloved homespun Woodsist Festival for the musical universe they’ve built, Perennial is the sound of a band on the edge of their 20th anniversary and still finding bold new ways to sound like (and challenge) themselves. Perennial grew from a bed of guitar/keyboard/drum loops by Woods head-in-chief Jeremy Earl, a form of winter night meditation that evolved into an unexplored mode of collaborative songwriting. With Earl’s starting points, he and bandmates Jarvis Taveniere and John Andrews convened, first at Earl’s house in New York, then at Panoramic House studio in Stinson Beach, California, site of sessions for 2020’s Strange To Explain. With a view of the sparkling Pacific and tape rolling, they began to build, jamming over the loops, switching instruments, and developing a few dozen building blocks. The album’s resulting 11 songs, 4 of them instrumental, are in the classic Woods mode--shimmering, familiar, fractionally unsettling--but with the half-invisible infinity boxes of Earl’s loops burbling beneath each like a mysterious underground source. From source to seed to bloom, each loop unfolds into something unpredictable, from the jeweled pop of the aching “Little Black Flowers” to the ecstatic starlit freak-beat of “Another Side.” They are blossomings both far-out and comforting, like the Mellotronic cloud-hopping of “Between the Past,” or sometimes just plain comforting, like the widescreen snowglobe fantasia of the instrumental “White Winter Melody,” touched by Connor Gallaher’s pedal steel. Woods have long used the studio as a place of songwriting, naming 2007’s At Rear House after their shared dwelling and recording space. But Perennial also carries with it an even longer view of Woods. Emerging from the process alongside the music was Earl’s reflection that “perennial plants and flowers are nature’s loops,” an idea rolling under the album’s lyrics like the loops themselves. It certainly applies to the band, too, who have quietly tended to a long, committed project of being a band in the weird-ass 21st century, both individually and communally. Though separated by coasts, the communal sprit carries through Earl, Taveniere, and Andrews’ collaboration, a living embodiment of the freedoms rediscovered every time a new collectively created piece of music emerges. For nearly two decades, Woods have survived subgenres, anchored in the fertile soil below hashtags like lo-fi and freak-folk and psychedelic and indie, and built a shared history that’s something to marvel at. As the flagship band for Woodsist, they’ve accumulated a striking extended family of collaborators (and Woods alum) that have made the label one of the most dependable imprints in the kaleidoscopic low-key underground. It’s a glow that’s transferred whole to the blissed-out Woodsist Fests held in Accord, New York in recent years, which have folded in a wide range of diverse sounds, from the the jazz cosmoverse of the Sun Ra Arkestra and adventurous legends Yo La Tengo, to a hard-to-even-count family tree of contemporaries, like Kevin Morby (who served a few tours of duty as Woods bassist) and Kurt Vile (who released his 2009 debut on Woodsist), a living community in sound. Perennial carries all of this, shaped by decades, but made in the moment, and here right now. The smell of the flowers doesn’t remain, but sometimes the flowers do. Jesse Jarnow Recorded and mixed by Jarvis Taveniere at Panoramic House in Stinson Beach, CA with additional recording at The Ship in Los Angeles, CA and Cottekill Bird Sanctuary in Stone Ridge, NY. Produced by Jarvis Taveniere and Jeremy Earl. Mastered by Timothy Stollenwerk at Stereophonic Mastering in Portland, OR. Jeremy Earl - vocals, guitars, drums, percussion, sk-5, mellotron, vibraphone, autoharp, loops Jarvis Taveniere - guitar, bass, upright bass, hammond, vocals John Andrews - piano, organs, mellotron, drums, vocals Connor Gallaher - Pedal Steel Kyle Forester - sax, wurlitzer

Every once in a while, a library record's absurd level of perfection will be enough to throw up your hands and pack it all in. "How will I ever find this record in the wild?!", you may despair. And, yes, up until now, Michel Gonet's Phasing News Volume 2 was such a work of this ridiculous standard. Not just hyper-rare, but hyper-brilliant. Its high points transcend the "library" genre. This is a record that has always been so so hot on secondary markets. And it's easy to hear why! It's a big big French library classic with mad crazy demand.

Opening with "Mondial Scoop (Number III)", it continues on from where the dramatic tracks of Phasing News Volume 1 left off. The group of "Phasing Percussions" get under your skin, sample material for days here. "Phasing Leitmotive A" and "Phasing Leitmotive B" hypnotise with their analogue synth loops. Yet it's "Phasing March", closing out the side, that is absolutely sensational. Timpani drums merge with open breaks making for an irresistible neck-snapping tour de force.

Side B starts with "Devil Dance A", an unbelievably infectious bass instrumental whilst "Devil Dance B" adds more percussion and bass flourishes and is all the more funky for it.

And now for the main event. "Flower Dance A". What can we even say? An instantly captivating, sparkling keys loop and glittering percussion neatly arranged atop a very strong bassline and drums, all lean and potent. The melody was lifted wholesale by The Soulsavers for "Rumblefish" back in 2002 and you can't really blame them. "Flower Dance B" removes the bassline for a lighter feel but that loop still burrows inside your brain. It's perfect.

"Happy Smith (Number II)" was used by Madlib for Erykah's "My People" (!!!) whilst the set closes out with a group of tense, phased workouts.

The audio for Phasing News Volume 2 has been remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring this release sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the original, iconic Tele Music house sleeve has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

Simone De Kunovich
Mythical Figure
Use variably, whenever you need: D.J. at MainStage, High Profile Fashion Event, Underground
Basement Club, Balearic Terrace Situation.
Gifted selector. Room filling presence. Oversized packaging.
He (here) deals three cards.
“Flow My Tears“ High Roller Euro House
„Super Mana Drain“ OMG Modern High Energy
„Warp Lord“ Early Morning, Playful Dark Eternal Bliss
„He who masters the sound glows“

Adrian Borland and Graham Bailey might be better known as members of legendary post-punk group The Sound, but the two were childhood friends and had been playing together even earlier in The Outsiders, and continued their deep musical rapport as a duo, creating these intense and engaging songs as Second Layer at the same time as their higher profile band output. Following our release of Courts Or Wars, combining their early material, we are proud to reissue their only full length album, World Of Rubber.

Fueled by experimentation in both song construction and recording techniques, the duo leave you enveloped in what The Quietus described as, “a monochrome worldview morbidly obsessed with the dehumanizing effect of war, nuclear weapon annihilation, and the fracturing and negation of the self within an increasingly distorted and technologically mediated society.” Indeed, the goal had been to make each album a concept album, with this to be titled: Second Layer’s World Of Rubber. Alas, this was to be the first and last of those efforts. New detailed liner notes from Graham Bailey shed considerable light on the creation of this cold classic and its immediate aftermath.

Bailey’s inventive construction and deconstruction of various electronics, effects boxes and tape loops form the propulsive base for these songs. Borland’s guitar playing is jagged and unleashed. Above it all is an undeniable sense of melody and Adrian’s distinctive vocals. Soon, they would wonder where Second Layer ended and The Sound began, but World Of Rubber would stand as a document of this fertile period. It would also be a lasting testament to their desire to push the boundaries of their creativity. Dark and brooding the result is what Bandcamp described as “brutally bleak, blank-eyed post-punk that remains chillingly compelling.”

A.R. Kive collates the three most astonishing works from that most miraculous of duos - A.R. Kane - comprising the ‘Up Home’ EP from 1988 that signified the band’s dawning realisation of their own powers and possibilities, their legendary debut LP ‘sixty nine’ (1988) and its kaleidoscopic, prophetic double-LP follow up ‘i’ (1989).

In founder-member Rudy Tambala’s new remastering, the music on these pivotal transmissions from the birth of dream pop, have been reinvigorated and re-infused with a new power, a new depth and intimacy, a new height and immensity. Vivid, timeless and yet always timely whenever they’re recalled, these records still force any listener to realise that despite the habits of retrospective myth-making and the
safe neutering effects of ‘genre’, thirty years have in no way dimmed how resistant and dissident to critical habits of categorisation A.R. Kane always were. Never quite ‘avant-pop’ or ‘shoegaze’ or ‘post-rock’ or any of those sobriquets designed to file and categorise, A.R. Kive is a reminder that those genres had to be coined, had to be invented precisely to contain the astonishing sound of A.R. Kane, because
previous formulations couldn’t come close to their sui generis sound and suggestiveness. This is music that pointed towards futures which a whole generation of artists and sonic explorers would map out. Now beautifully repackaged, remastered and fleshed out with extensive sleeve notes and accompanying materials, ‘A.R. Kive’ reveals that 35 years on it’s still a struggle to defuse the revolutionary and inspirational possibility of A.R. Kane’s music.

A.R. Kane were formed in 1986 by Rudy Tambala and Alex Ayuli, two second-generation immigrants who grew up together in Stratford, East London. From the off the pair were outsiders in the culturally mixed (cockney/Irish/West Indian/Asian) milieu of the East End, with Alex and Rudy’s folks first generation immigrants from Nigeria and Malawi, respectively. The two of them quickly developed and fostered an innate and near-telepathic mutual understanding forged in musical, literary and artistic exploration. Like a lot of second-generation immigrants, they were ferocious autodidacts in all kinds of areas, especially around music and literature. Diving deep into the music of afro-futurist luminaries such as Sun Ra, Miles Davis, Lee Perry and
Hendrix, as well as devouring the explorations of lysergic noise and feedback from contemporaries like Sonic Youth and Butthole Surfers, they also thoroughly immersed themselves in the alternate literary realities of sci-fi and ancient history (the fascination with the arcane that gave the band their name), all to feed their voracious cultural thirsts and intellectual curiosity.

It was seeing the Cocteau Twins performing on Channel 4 show the Tube that spurred A.R. Kane into being - “They had no drummer. They used tapes and technology and Liz Fraser looked completely otherworldly with those big eyes. And the noise coming out of Robin’s guitar! That was the ‘Fuck! We could do that! We could express ourselves like that!’ moment”, recalls Tambala - and through a mix of
confidence, chutzpah, ad hoc almost-mythical live shows and sheer innocent will the duo debuted with the astonishing ‘When You’re Sad’ single for One Little Indian in 1986. Immediately dubbed a ‘black Jesus & Mary Chain’ by a press unsure of WHERE to put a black band clearly immersed in feedback and noise, what was immediately apparent for listeners was just how much more was going on here - a
tapping of dub’s stealth and guile, a resonant umbilicus back to fusion and jazz, the music less a conjuration of past highs than a re-summoning of lost spirits.
The run of singles and EPs that followed picked up increasingly rapt reviews in the press, but it was the ‘Up Home EP’ released in 1988 on their new home, Rough Trade that really suggested something immense was about to break. Simon Reynolds noted the EP was: Their most concentrated slab of iridescent awesomeness and a true pinnacle of an era that abounded with astounding landmarks of guitar-reinvention, A.R. Kane at their most elixir-like.

If anything, the remastered ‘Up Home’ that forms the first part of ‘A.R. Kive’ is even more dazzling, even more startling than it was when it first emerged, and listening now you again wonder not just about how many bands christened ‘shoegaze’ tried to emulate it, but how all of them fell so far short of its lambent, pellucid wonder. This remains intrinsically experimental music but with none of the frowning orthodoxy those words imply. A.R. Kane, thanks to that second generation auto-didacticism were always supremely aware about the interstices of music and magic, but at the same time gloriously free in the way they explored that connection within their own sound, fascinated always with the creation of ‘perfect mistakes’ and the possibilities inherent in informed play.

‘sixty nine’ the group’s debut LP that emerged in 1988 had
critics and listeners struggling to fit language around A.R. Kane’s sound. As a title it was telling - the year of ‘Bitches Brew’, the year of ‘In A Silent Way’, the erotic möbius between two lovers - and as originally coined by the band themselves, ‘dream pop’ (before it became a free-floating signifier of vague import) was entirely apposite for the music A.R. Kane were making. Crafted in a dark small basement studio in which Tambala recalls the duo had “complete freedom - We wanted to go as far out as we could, and in doing so we discovered the point where it stops being music”. There was an irresistibly dreamy, somnambulant, sensual and almost surreal flow to ‘sixty nine’s sound, but also real darkness/dankness, the ruptures of the primordial and the reverberations of the subconscious, within the grooves of remarkable songs like ‘Dizzy’ and ‘Crazy Blue’. Alex’s plangent vocals floated and surged amidst exquisite peals of refracted feedback but crucially there was BASS here, lugubrious and funky and full of dread, sonic pleasure and sonic disturbance crushed together to make music with a center so deep it felt subcutaneous, music constructed from both the accidental and the deliberate, generous enough to dance with both serendipity and chaos. ‘sixty nine’ remains - especially in this remastered iteration - ravishing, revolutionary.

The final part of this ‘A.R. Kive’ contains 1989’s astonishing double-LP ‘i’ which followed up on ‘sixty nine’s promise and saw the duo fully unleash their experimental pop sensibilities over 26 tracks, plunging the A.R. Kane sound into a dazzlingly kaleidoscopic vision of pop experiment and play. Suffused with new digital technologies and combining searingly sweet and danceable pop with perhaps the duo’s strangest and boundary-pushing compositions, the album did exactly what a great double-set should do - indulge the artists sprawling pursuit of their own imaginations but always with a concision and an ear for those moments where pop both transcends and toys with the listeners expectations. Jason Ankeny has noted that “In retrospect, ‘i’ now seems like a crystal ball prophesying virtually every major musical development of the 1990s; from the shimmering techno of ‘A Love from Outer Space’ to the liquid dub of ‘What’s All This Then?’, from the alien drone-pop of ‘Conundrum’ to the sinister shoegazer miasma of ‘Supervixens’ — it’s all here, an underground road map for countless bands to follow.” Perhaps the most overwhelmingly all-encompassing transmission from A.R. Kane, ‘i’ bookended a three year period in which the duo had made some of the most prophetic and revelatory music of the entire decade.

After ‘i’ the duo’s output became more sporadic with Tambala and Ayuli moving in different directions both geographically and musically, with only 1994’s ‘New Clear Child’ a crystalline re-fraction of future and past echoes of jazz, folk and soul, before the duo went their separate ways. Since then, A.R. Kane’s music has endured, not thanks to the usual sepia’d false memories that seem to maintain interest in so much of the musical past, but because those who hear A.R. Kane music and are changed irrevocably, have to share that universe which A.R. Kane opened up, with anyone else who will listen. Far more than other lauded documents of the late 80s it still sounds astonishingly fresh, astonishingly livid and vivid and necessary and NOW.

Minor Science—aka UK-born, Berlin-based musician Angus Finlayson—makes his Balmat debut with Absent Friends Vol. III, the third installment in a shape-shifting series across a variety of formats and platforms. And with it, he pushes forward his vision of ambient music as neither static vista or merely mood-setting atmosphere, but rather a dynamic matrix of textures, sensations, and even rhythms.

The first two Absent Friends—a 2014 set for Blowing Up the Workshop, and a 2017 cassette and web player for Whities (now AD93)—were hybrid affairs, part DJ mix and part collage, mostly featuring music made by other people. Then, in 2020-21, Finlayson developed the project into a live show of his own material. Armed with hundreds of bespoke stems created in his studio—idiosyncratic FX chains, feedback loops through cheap rack gear, heavily post-processed field recordings, found voices, etc.—he would improvise on four CDJs, mixer, FX, and live synths, extending techniques he learned as a club DJ into a live context, accompanied by visuals by Stockholm-based artist Paul Witherden.

Absent Friends Vol. III is an album of studio versions of the music developed for the live show. But in Minor Science’s world, even a category as simple as “studio versions” is slightly opaque. “Most of these tracks weren’t ‘composed’ in the studio,” Finlayson explains: “The sounds started out as stems and source material for the live show, and might not have been intended to go together—but then through performance, they settled into shapes that worked. I then recreated those performances in the studio.” That organic process of ideation and realization might help explain the unusual coherence of the album, in which sounds and textures flow seamlessly from one to the next, sometimes seeming to stand still, and sometimes looping back. There are virtually no melodies, few recognizable motifs or riffs, yet the eight-track album nevertheless moves with a distinctive logic and a determined sense of purpose, from the frozen-in-time shimmer of the opening “Introduction” through the early cuts’ studies of space and light; from the seemingly autobiographical “Summer Diary” through the rushing trance (yes, trance) arpeggios of “Contingency” and on to the dulcet denouement of the closing “Gather Your Party (Dispersed Mix).”

Nous'klaer Audio presents Martinou - Chiral, the follow full-length up to his 2021 album Rift. This time nine tracks across two vinyls. An album flowing 'in a way' like Rift, but it's different: More outspoken, heavier sound design and it peaks on a blissful note. ''Open up the blinds and take me there. We'll break the surface tension. We'll dive in. I'm locked in your devotion. You give an inclination to our demise. It will be our exit. To bliss, we'll be its guardian. Once there was love. Clear as glassy water. No ripples, no waves. I followed while you led. Our arrival was warm. Hot, even. Stunning to a startling degree. Hands intwined, frolicking towards the blue. Hours passed, and white heat cede to an orange hue. We cooled down. Red. We rallied. Black. It began. Into the deep darkness we ran. White sand, it has a tendency to get everywhere. Salt water will only dehydrate you more. Shriveled and dry. Scratchy and coarse. More. And then we were lost. Fingers once locked grew distant. Morning, dear. Where have you gone? We looked. A glimpse from afar. Red. We rallied. Shall we share a bottle of wine? Black, lost again. Afternoon, friend. Where were you? Red. Alone. Black. We rallied. Shall we try somewhere new? Sand and salt. Evening, sir. Reservation for one? Reservations a plenty, I say. Evening, miss. Dining alone? Aren't we all? Dining, miss, not dying. Oh, yes, alone. Black. Sand and salt. I found you. No. No. Wait, do I know you? You feel like a dream. Don't touch me. Move along, sir. Who are you? Leave. Who are you? Where did you go? Keep moving. I am, I will. Time to move on. I'm moving! Leave. Don't touch me. Leave. Why are you? Exit. Purple. Orange. Yellow. White. Blue. Morning, dear. Shall we have breakfast? I think I'll sleep some more. But it's our last day. I know. See you downstairs when you're ready. OK. I open up the blinds. A bird breaks the surface tension. Locked in. To Devotion? No. Demise. An inclination. Reverie. Take me there. Where? Exit (To Bliss) '' Text by Gregory Markus

A label sampler showcasing the best of Winspear’s releases from its early days to the present day. The sampler features cuts from Barrie, Divino Niño, Slow Pulp, Video Age, and more. Digital download included with the LP includes never before heard b-sides and rarities from across the label roster. Winspear Volume 01 is a label sampler from Winspear. It’s a collection of standout songs from the label’s catalog, spanning from their early years to the present day. Featuring tracks by Barrie, Divino Niño, Slow Pulp, Video Age, and more. The digital version of the label sampler (including the digital download that comes with each physical album purchase), will include never before heard demos, b-sides, and rarities from across the label roster. The release of the sampler will be celebrated at a label showcase at Thalia Hall in Chicago. The event, Winspear Review, is happening for the 4th time in the label’s history

In 2020, electronic musician Nina Pixel was offered a track on a compilation album of songs from the Liptov region. What started as a rearrangement of a single folk song eventually grew in scope and size, eventually becoming a series of releases. Titled Ancestral Archaeology, the series counts two self-released EPs, an audiovisual show in co-operation with Adrián Kriška, and now, after two years, a double LP published by Weltschmerzen. In this definitive form of an album, Ancestral Archaeology reveals itself as a musical reimagination of traditional historical Slovak culture at large.

Nina Pixel averts the perils of lapsing into inauthentic fakelore by building her music with, rather than on, the ethnographic riches of Slovakia. With the eagerness of a genuine archeological prospector, Ancestral Archaeology invokes the always present but seldom perceived linchpins of folklore culture: the desperate clinging to the memory of pre-Christian paganism and witchcraft, songs with narratives of beautiful innate wyrdness that is utterly unfit for mass culture, and superstition as the most serious longing for the balance between sense and irrationality.

If we acknowledge the truism of folklore as the shared way of expression in rural society, the techno music on Ancestral Archeology proposes that, in the urban society of ours, this role is served by raves. The argument isn't as much declared as it's implied // in music and in the spoken-word lyrics that are rife with historical and contemporary sources. An 18th-century recipe by the writer and priest Juraj Fándly proposes snorting the grounded flowers of the medicinal weed Valerian as a way of curing bad vision. "It is a proven remedy!" we are repeatedly assured, and it's not hard imagining Fándly and his parishioners, strung out on Valerian, moving almost involuntarily to the rhythms of their era just as we can move to Ancestral Archeology.

Nina Pixel is a Slovak music artist based in Berlin. Lyrics are inspired by Slovak folklore traditions, songs and shared beliefs.



Manifestation tools: cello, overtone flute koncovka, fujara, gong, metal bowls, sheep bell, field recordings of Slovak forests, Andreas's tom and various drum machines.

The final U.S. show, a triumphant and blistering bookend to the storied career of one of the most influential bands in rock music, featuring a unique and expansive eighty-five minute set list that spans Sonic Youth’s nearly three decade catalog. Mixed from multitrack by longtime live engineer Aaron Mullan and mastered and cut by Carl Saff. On August 12, 2011 Sonic Youth played their final US show on an outdoor stage overlooking the East River at the Williamsburg Waterfront in Brooklyn. Fitting that their storied career would bookend with a panoramic view of New York City where it all began 30 years before, having left in their wake one of one of the most powerfully influential careers in rock music. Following incredible sets from Kurt Vile and Wild Flag, the band took the stage. As the sun went down over the city, Sonic Youth ripped through a 17 song set that spanned from deep cuts off their first studio album and highlighting many other albums all the way through to their last, like a band with everything to prove. Or as Brooklyn Vegan’s Andrew Sacher said at the time: “While most bands who are thirty years into their career are either fading away or living off of the nostalgia of their older material, Sonic Youth continue to sound and perform as fresh as ever.” Steve Shelley explains the uniquely career spanning set list of Live in Brooklyn 2011 and how it came to be, as well as the importance of outdoor NYC summer shows in Sonic Youth’s legacy: “This show was a culmination of a run of really special outdoor summertime shows in New York City for us, starting in ’92 with Summerstage in Central Park when we played with Sun Ra. For the Williamsburg Waterfront show I wrote out the set list to present to the band and it was a lot of material we hadn’t played in a while, a lot of deep cuts, so I wasn’t sure if everybody would feel like doing it. After worrying about which songs the band might say yes or no to, I threw those concerns out the window and I just made a list of songs that I thought would be a great set. We practiced the week of the show at our space in Hoboken and put the set together. First we’d try and make sure we had a guitar in the song’s tuning, then we’d try to remember the arrangement and try and put it together, sometimes re-learning bar by bar. In the end I think the whole song list made it through. Even as early as ’86 and ’87 we stopped playing ‘Death Valley 69’ and ‘Brave Men Run’ with any regularity. We’d just get excited about new material coming into the set and songs would get ‘retired’ and wouldn’t get played again for years. So on this particular night in Brooklyn a lot of those retired songs and deep cuts got dusted off and played for this show. It turned out to be a pretty special event with a really special song list.” The band would go on to fulfill a contracted festival run in South America a few months later but, by then, the group’s center was severed beyond repair and the festival appearances didn’t hold the same kind of weight. “The stage was facing the East River from the Williamsburg, Brooklyn waterfront, and I recall the sun going down in the west during our set. It was a pretty magical, if kinda weird day. Fitting, somehow, that our ‘last show’ should be in New York City, our home and where it all began…” Lee Ranaldo The Williamsburg Waterfront show would fondly become referred to as ‘The Last Show’ by fans and band alike, equally for its triumphant high energy performance, its unique and expansive set list and locale. Newly remixed and remastered, Live in Brooklyn 2011 is presented for the first time on 2xLP, 2Xcd, August 18, 2023.

Selected Songs 1997-2003 compiles some of the finest moments in the recording history of Hydroplane, the Melbourne-based indie-pop three-piece that operated alongside The Cat’s Miaow through the second half of the nineties. It’s the third release in what feels, now, like a loosely planned series by World Of Echo, documenting the music made by this group of friends in Melbourne sharehouses (The Cat’s Miaow’s Songs ’94-’98, 2022), or in the case of The Shapiros (Gone By Fall, 2023), while traversing the International Pop Underground.

Hydroplane would be familiar to anyone already following these breadcrumb trails – Andrew Withycombe, Bart Cummings and Kerrie Bolton were the group’s core, all members of The Cat’s Miaow. With Cat’s Miaow drummer Cameron Smith itinerant, having moved to London, the trio used this opportunity to expand their music. It’s a subtle, but important shift. If The Cat’s Miaow was about the perfect, minimalist, two-minute pop song, Hydroplane’s music was far more open-ended, embracing the loops and drones, sampled house-y shuffle beats, the burbling of a Roland Jupiter-4 synth, all of which the trio joined, effortlessly, to their endless capacity for moving, elegant melodicism.

They may have only planned to release one seven-inch single, but the sound Hydroplane created was so bewitching, so compelling, that the project’s lifespan ran for around half a decade, and they ended up releasing three albums, including a self-titled debut recently reissued by Efficient Space, and seven singles. There are all kinds of compelling things happening in the music compiled here – the hazy repetition of the gentler side of Krautrock is in here, somewhere, which also suggests Stereolab at their most intimate and disarmed; the gently drifting guitars, gauzy and oneiric, set the songs adrift and floating, each one lost in its own imagined, distracted world. Songs like “The Love You Bring” set indistinct tonal floats across dance rhythms, in a way not quite heard since My Bloody Valentine’s “Instrumental” – but with the added gift of Bolton’s gorgeous voice.

This loose coalition with dance music, and the quiet experimentalism at the heart of Hydroplane, also gestures towards peers like Hood, Acetate Zero and Other People’s Children, and releases on renegade labels like Wurlitzer Jukebox and Enraptured. Like those groups and labels, The Cat’s Miaow were reconciling independent pop music’s past – sweet melody and melancholy, chiming and droning guitars – with the futures promised by DIY electronics and nascent digitalia, the interface of indie and IDM that led to some of the underground’s most blissful, texturally swoonsome music. All that is here, but also, the poise of the melodies is pure Cat’s Miaow, though, with Bolton’s voice sailing, pacifically, over some of the most pared-down, gorgeous music made during their decade.

It was a time, too, when such music could make waves – “We Crossed The Atlantic”, one of their early singles, was picked up by John Peel, who played it repeatedly on his legendary radio show, the song reaching #13 on his 1997 Festive 50. That the song itself was a cover of a tune by 1960s Australian beatnik-pop-poet Pip Proud felt even more perfect – a group of outsiders paying tribute to another outsider, played on the radio one of the few broadcasters brave and human enough to take a chance on this music. But it was a time where everything was up for grabs, and genres were flowing into each other: folk songs went drone; indie re-discovered noise; ambient pop floated, again, out onto the dancefloor. And while they may have been sequestered away in Melbourne, Australia, Hydroplane felt core to that scene, a quietly driving force.

Compiling material from across their brief but mercurial career, this double album perfectly captures the magic and mystery of Hydroplane’s dreamlike, perfect pop songs.

The 21-track "Complete and Total Hell" double LP features MIDNIGHT's pre-"Satanic Royalty" catalog. Back in print for the collectors of sleazy night dwelling Black Rock N’ Roll. Don't miss out on your chance to add to your collection, grab these classic tracks for the first time. NO CLEAN SINGIN: "Complete and Total Hell flows well as an album, even though it is a compilation. “Funeral Bell” opens with some Bathory-style atmosphere, and then the record pumps out track after track of chunky and distorted riffs. The early tracks sound like they were recorded straight to cassette in a basement over a boombox—which they may have been. The raw recording works in their favor since the songs emerge from simple building blocks. As the record progresses you can actually hear more and more money flow into Midnight’s recording—the guitar solos clear up, the bass rumbles deeper, until the music breaks into jangly boogie rock on “Berlin is Burning,” over an hour later. Yes, an hour"

Limited purple coloured vinyl. First time reissued, includes the original cover artwork. Out of print in any format for 30 years. Most of us likely missed MUDHONEY’s ‘Five Dollar Bob’s Mock Cooter Stew’ when it first cratered here on Earth in late 1993, but we can ALL learn from our previous mistakes RIGHT NOW!!! Out of print in any physical format for 30 years (!), here is their Reprise mini-LP for all to devour in real-time and roll in its naked glory. Initially recorded by the band as an offering for their fans to devour while they were between full-length albums, the majority of ‘Five Dollar’ was recorded in one short, inspired burst on August 1, 1993, between the hours of 9:30 and 10:15 PM (with friend and Fastback Kur(d)t Bloch egging them on from the production booth). They smashed this out in just 45 minutes. It might be the band at their most ‘Stooge-esque’ since there is no flowery imagery; nothing to misinterpret; just in-your-face blunt despair (in that department, Black Flag’s ‘Damaged’ LP comes to mind, especially in Mudhoney’s gleefully punishing highlight: ‘No Song III’). Within two seconds of any of these songs hitting your mind (maybe even within one second), you knew it could only be Mudhoney. You can instantly recognize it, because they truly own it/you/the universe. Track listing: 1 In The Blood 2 No Song III 3 Between Me & You Kid 4 Six Two One 5 Make It Now Again 6 Deception Pass 7 Underide