quête:faces

Im Jahr 2017 feierte das Album ‚Second Nature' die triumphale Rückkehr von Lionheart in die melodische Rockmusikszene mit einer Sammlung von kraftvollen und denkwürdigen Songs. Wegen vertraglicher Umstände verschwand das Album 2020 außerhalb Japans vom Markt. Nun wurde das Album neu gemastert, um noch druckvoller zu klingen als je zuvor, hier kommt die Ltd. LP Gatefold Edition in goldener Farbe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As on Under A Burning Eclipse, between each song on Sacred Rites & Black Magick is an intricately positioned interlude building the ambiance and steering the thematic intensity of the album. Beginning with echoing, clean dual acoustic guitars, introductory interlude “Hymns Of The Slumbering Race” begins the procession of grand ascension and hair raising riffage to come. “Internal Fulmination Of The Grand Deceivers” flashes STORMRULER’s brand of Imperial Black Metal Warfare, shining with heavy bass and blastbeats before cascading into icy atmosphere topped by smoke-cloaked vocals. Entrancing guitars match an ebb and flow of carefully paced interludes and merciless, speeding fury, showcasing standout leads and a blazing solo. Similar epic songwriting, lush lyricism and skillful dynamics can be witnessed on tracks such as the brooding “Entranced Within The Moon Presence”, intricate “In The Shaded Vlasian Forest” and introspective, glistening “Along The Appian Way”. “To Bear The Twin Faces Of The Dragon” stages some of the most menacing sonic escapades and memorable leads of the 20-track offering, combining chants of sorcery with searing screams and waves of crushing melody, while tracks such as “Upon Frozen Shores” weave a sonic tale of occult doom atop triumphant soundscapes, breakneck rhythms and ghostly melodic passages. Standout title offering “Sacred Rites & Black Magick” sets the supreme lyrical and musical mood of the album itself, depicting just how deftly STORMRULER conjure lucid black metal as they inject energetic, unforgettable grooves and riffs into their scorching delivery – succeeding in convincing even the newest of genre converts.

Based in Winnipeg, Manitoba, an "inland island that floats on infinite
prairie ground," Living Hour has always been a band that's thrived in
seclusion.Helping to foster a thriving local community, and taking
inspiration from the faces and places of their hometown, the band have
always been motivated by the belief that their own music only gets more
interesting when it includes other voices
For their new album, Living Hour called upon friends from near and far.
The result is "Someday Is Today", the band's third full-length effort and the muchanticipated follow- up to their 2019 "Softer Faces" LP, acclaimed by the likes of
NPR, Stereogum, Paste, Vice, Bandcamp, and more. On "Someday Is Today", the
group's sound is collaborated with a variety of drummers including Jason Tait
(The Weakerthans, Broken Social Scene) and is fleshed out further with the help
of three producers: Melina Duterte (Jay Som, Bachelor, Chastity Belt), Jonathan
Schenke (Parquet Courts, Snail Mail, The Drums), and Samur Khouja (Cate le Bon,
Deerhunter, Regina Spektor) all of whom impart their own backgrounds on the
album's finished glow.
"Someday Is Today" is Living Hour at their most pensive and longing. It was
recorded over seven straight days during the dark depths of a Manitoba winter,
with the band cocooned in the sounds they were making as the temperature hit
-30 outside the door. The album thrives by keeping just enough connection
across its varied palettes to feel like one cohesive world. Whether it's the album's
soft and gorgeous harmonies or the captured sound of wind tubes being swung
above their heads, the songs here feel bound by something bigger than
themselves; an energy that flourished in spite of it all, a human connection that
grips just strongly enough even when pushed to its frayed, unreachable extremes.

Initially started as a a solo project until Deacon D. was joined by guitarist Åskväder in September 1999. After an hiatus HETROERTZEN resurfaced in Sweden in 2009 with the release of ‘Exaltation Of Wisdom’ issued on their own imprint Lamech Records. That album put forward the band’s early interest in the occult, Gnosticism and Illumination. 2016 saw the release of their critically acclaimed ' Uprising of the Fallen' previous album, HETROERTZEN are now releasing their brand new album entitled ' Phosphorus Vol 1' for a late Spring release on Listenable HETROERTZEN comment about ‘Phosphorus Vol 1' : " A new day has come to pass. A new ray pierces the veil of darkness and confusion. A new gem feeds the astonished sight and yet we walk through times of uncertainty before facing the switching Era… After five years of silence and lots of work, Hetroertzen finally give you the first Volume of ‘Phosphorus', which is the crown for our latest Opus or the new Sephira in our artistic/spiritual development. This is in fact a strong title, taken from the Vampiric-eucharistic ritual of the “Ecclesia Gnosticae” (Gnostic Church) which inspired the “Libation” passage in the Order of the Knight Templars; and even in the Catholic Mass later on. “Unless You Eat the Flesh of the Son of Man and Drink His Blood You Have No Life In You” The Royal Art or the Dragon’s Arts are present more or less in any occult teaching as Alchemy aims to conjoin separated ways into the quintessence of “Holy Marriage”. As one church focused on the feminine esoteric aspect of Communion and the other on the masculine; We use both sides unified as a more accurate representation of “unity” and “oneness”. (The One). 'Phosphorus Vol 1' consists of eight tracks plus one bonus track available on the CD version. They harvest the very soul of Wisdom and Salvation or Salvation through Wisdom as we see it. Each title encloses a key or “Clavicula” which reveals different passages to the Adept. Once more, the term “Eyes to see and Ears to hear” is fundamental when it comes to the listening experience to its fullest. As all of the previous works, this is a unique piece which complements our experimental / conceptual aura into its own mystic tree. Time will tell when the second volume faces the waves of turbulence. Certainly, it shall swallow the soul of the sleepers and haunt the dreams of those who knock at our door… Through plague and war, we survive the hand of destiny by the laws of cosmic thought and the bliss of this endless journey. Light of all Lights, blessed be ! "

A heady and adventurous experience with ever-shifting elements of jazz,
fuzz guitar, blues rock and psychedelia! Graffiti's origins can be traced
back to 1967 and the dissolution of The Hangmen, a popular Washington
DC area garage rock act well noted for the proto-punk stylings of their
singles € What A Girl Can't Do € and € Faces
€ Singer Tony Taylor, a late addition to the band's lineup, recruited guitarist
George Strunz to the group and soon announced the band would pursue a more
psychedelic direction. It didn't take long for Graffiti to attract label attention, and
by August of 1968 the band signed to ABC Records and released their debut
single, € He's Got The Knack. € In November of 1968 they released their one and
only album.
The juxtaposition between Graffiti's smooth vocal harmonies and their intricate
songwriting is stark. One moment the group is immersed in all of the feel-good
pop songwriting tropes of the era, oftentimes quite reminiscent of acts like The
Association and The Mamas & The Papas. Meanwhile, the next moment sees the
band vamping into extended passages, odd chord sequencing, and off beat time
signatures, highlighted by Strunz's frequent fuzz laced soloing and the energetic
drumming of Richie Blakin. The legacy of Graffiti's self-titled debut was seemingly
hampered by the fact that that it is often lumped in with the plethora of other oneand- done psych releases of the time, an era in which major labels were falling
over one another in an attempt to capitalize on the psychedelic sounds
popularized by the Summer of Love. This is unfortunate because Graffiti's
approach to songwriting and blending together of jazz, classical, and rock
elements are rather groundbreaking, precursors to the arrival of progressive rock -
proto-prog pioneers, if you will.

"With a catchy indie-pop sound and her elegant songwriting the 24-yearold Austrian OSKA is capturing everybody´s hearts
Born as Maria Burger, the talented artist took her rich musical upbringing to
Vienna where she has now crafted her debut album My world, My love, Paris.
Through its various themes like love, family and legacy the record is ultimately a
snapshot of a young woman attempting to make sense of getting older in an
increasingly uncertain era. Despite that, she always manages to put a smile on
her listeners faces."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Demon are proud to release “Eddie Piller Presents British Mod Sounds Of the 1960s”, the follow up the “The Mod Revival”. This 2LP set serves an introduction to 'British Mod Sounds of the '60s’ and features 34 tracks.

Curated by Acid Jazz Records and Modcast founder Eddie Piller, this collection features the stapes of the British Mod scene including Small Faces, The High Numbers, The Action, The Fleur De Lys, The Kinks, Spencer Davis Group, The Creation, Rod Stewart, The Yardbirds, and The Love Affair.

"Be in with the In Crowd once more."
Every great youth cult deserves a great soundtrack, and when the '60s Mods adopted classic American R&B, with a side order of hip Jazz, they undoubtedly found the right music for their exuberant and stylish way of life. And yet, buying expensive imports, hoping for a local release or praying for a rare visit from overseas talent was never going to be enough to satisfy British youth with a thirst for the latest sounds. Certainly not those on the dancefloor and definitely not those with their own musical ambitions.

It was a music scene that began with imitation, before skill and imagination lead curious minds to innovation, a scene that evolved from average (at best) copies of releases on the Chess, Motown and Stax labels, to become something more sophisticated,something quite unique, something very British.

Boston-based progressive death metal outfit Revocation return from the Lovecraftian outer limits on new album, Netherheaven. Four years in the making, the Billboard-charting trio—featuring Dave Davidson (vocals/guitars), Ash Pearson (drums), and Brett Bamberger (bass)--meticulously explore the allegorical and literal aspects of Hell as they dig deeper into the darker, more diabolical side of death metal. In short, where the previous album, The Outer Ones (2018), jettison Revocation into the horrific maw of the cosmos, Netherheaven bores deftly through the nine rings of Hell to directly confront Lucifer and his multitudinous faces. The album's stunning Renaissance-style Paolo Girardi (Firespawn, Power Trip) cover art says it all. Revocation will release Netherheaven on September 9th. Indeed, as the adventurous triumvirate enter their 16th year, they show zero signs of slowing down or softening up. If death metal was looking for an Album of the Year, it's got a top contender in Netherheaven.

Boston-based progressive death metal outfit Revocation return from the Lovecraftian outer limits on new album, Netherheaven. Four years in the making, the Billboard-charting trio—featuring Dave Davidson (vocals/guitars), Ash Pearson (drums), and Brett Bamberger (bass)--meticulously explore the allegorical and literal aspects of Hell as they dig deeper into the darker, more diabolical side of death metal. In short, where the previous album, The Outer Ones (2018), jettison Revocation into the horrific maw of the cosmos, Netherheaven bores deftly through the nine rings of Hell to directly confront Lucifer and his multitudinous faces. The album's stunning Renaissance-style Paolo Girardi (Firespawn, Power Trip) cover art says it all. Revocation will release Netherheaven on September 9th. Indeed, as the adventurous triumvirate enter their 16th year, they show zero signs of slowing down or softening up. If death metal was looking for an Album of the Year, it's got a top contender in Netherheaven.

Mice Parade returns from a decade of silence to release lapapọ, an album that spans the many styles of their storied career,and features guest singer appearances by Angel Deradoorian (Dirty Projectors) and Arone Dyer (Buke & Gase). The rock is louder; the West-African-inspired highlife breaks are chubbier; the dueling drumkits are more complex, the instrumental passages more serene. What started as a home recording project in the late 90s soon morphed into a formidable and completely unique live band of incredible musicians from around the globe, all live-mixed and effected by legendary UK engineer Brandon Knights (aka Dub Warrior), the longtime sound engineer for Lee Scratch Perry, Soul II Soul, Gladiators and others. After 9 albums and nearly 15 years years of worldwide touring, including festivals across the UK, Iceland, mainland Europe, Turkey and Japan, and supporting Stereolab across the US, Mice Parade fans can finally hear some new music, and the live band hopes to safely reunite later this year. Throughout it all, Adam has mostly recorded with same ethos: allowing only one take for each track, forcing him to either leave in mistakes or address them with mutes or distractions, and embracing the Bob Ross concept of 'happy accidents.' This was a strict rule for the first several albums, and while he eventually became less strict about it, it's still a goal that is achieved more often than not. Perfection is not the goal - indeed, there should be no such thing in music. Most songs are not even written before pressing the record button, but instead are built piece by piece in improvised fashion. lapapọ is a Yoruba word meaning something akin to "totally" or "altogether."

Strictly hush-hush bootleg remix action here, as Russian turntablist-turned-producer Paul Sitter delivers two more hand crafted gems based around vocals and samples from a wide variety of sonic sources. We're particularly enjoying A-side 'Galvanize', which adds Q-Tip's vocals from the Chemical Brothers tune of the same name to MPC tapped-out hip-hop beats and the horns, bass, guitars and organs from what sounds like an old psych-funk instrumental. He ups the tempo on 'Chewtacca', opting for a cheery, sample-heavy blend of boom-bap hip-hop and 1960s mod madness featuring snippets of the Ohio Express's 'Chewy Chewy' and a 2010 jam from rap duo Das Racist. It's very silly, but also very entertaining - the kind of thing guaranteed to put smiles on faces

For Fans Of… Dr. John, Allen Toussaint, The Faces, Joe Cocker, Leon Russell, Buddy Miles, The Meters, Father John Misty. "I just wanted to be honest about everything, from my musical influences to my story," muses Neal Francis. After years of dishonest living - consumed by drugs, alcohol, and addiction - such sincerity is jarring from the 30-year-old Chicago-based musician. Liberated from a self-destructive past and born anew in sobriety, Francis has captured an inspired collection of songs steeped in New Orleans rhythms, Chicago blues, and early 70s rock n' roll. There is a deep connection between Francis's childhood - his obsession with boogie woogie piano, his father's gift of a dusty Dr. John LP - and the songs he's created. The result is an astonishing collection of material without parallel in the contemporary funk and soul scene. The influences are unmistakable: the vocal stylings of Allen Toussaint and Leon Russell; the second line rhythms of The Meters and Dr. John; the barroom rock 'n' roll of The Rolling Stones; the gospel soul of Billy Preston; the roots music of The Band. Francis pays tribute to the masters but has his own story to tell: "It's the life I've lived so far." After playing his first live show in November 2018, Francis was signed by veteran agents Joshua Knight and Phil Egenthal of Paradigm Talent Agency. 2019 brought a North American tour supporting Australian band The Cat Empire as well as radio play on KEXP, KCRW's The Morning Becomes Eclectic, and BBC Radio 6. Francis and his four-piece band performed at festivals such as Summer Camp and the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival and shared the stage with The Meters and Lee Fields & The Expressions. Francis continues to tour relentlessly to promote his own music. "I'm doing this to fulfill a drive within myself, but also to pay tribute to the gifts I've been given. And it comes from a place of immense gratitude. I've been given so much in my life, especially in the last two years, that this feels like a bonus." Also Available From Neal Francis: These Are The Days 7”.

Renowned for their distinctive songwriting, unique sound with beautifully
produced recordings, onstage chemistry and electrifying live shows,
European and British blues award nominees the Starlite Campbell Band
are Suzy Starlite and Simon Campbell who fell in love on stage and
married following a whirlwind musical romance
With their fresh taste of original '70s British rock and British blues, the husband
and wife duo have been on an exciting roller-coaster of a musical ride following
the release of their debut album 'Blueberry Pie' to rave reviews worldwide and a
prestigious nomination for Best Album in the European Blues Awards.The band's
exciting and highly anticipated second album 'The Language of Curiosity' is
released on November 5th, 2021 and supported by a European tour.
'The Language of Curiosity' is a collection of stories about different facets of
post- modern real- life experiences from working for the man, attitudes towards
lust, passion and casual sex, space travel, social systems and abuse by power
and money, war and the global refugee crisis, gatekeepers in the music industry,
people giving up and growing old before their time and feel good '70s inspired
British rock and British blues; it's like looking at different sides of a Rubik's cube.
From full-on rock 'n' roll tribal drums, thunderous bass, badass dirty guitar riffs,
drunken echoes of slide and lap steel, melting melodies and vocal harmonies
combined with old school valve guitar amps and analog tape machines, Starlite &
Campbell have a very British sound! With a vibe and feel reminiscent of the mid
'60s to early '70s British rock & British blues; think Peter Green, Faces, Deep
Purple, Led Zeppelin but not like those really... more like Starlite-Campbell!

Living In Clip (25th Anniversary Edition) Newly remastered for vinyl + cd in deluxe packaging. This landmark double album by Ani DiFranco, features her trio from 1995-1996 with Andy Stochansky (drums) and Sara Lee (bass). Twenty-five years later the album is recognized as a point of entry that radically expanded DiFranco’s audience, and a historically important testament to the relationship between Ani as a live performer and the devoted community she created with her fans. If there was ever a record to help you pull through until the next time the Folksinger makes her way to your town, Living In Clip is the one. Affectionately named after the state of stage amps about to blow out, the record is constructed like a show complete with the onstage humor and antics we love. The culmination of years of studio work and constant touring, Living In Clip is a tour in itself: nearly two-dozen venues provide the atmosphere for over two hours of music complete with intermission and encore. Recorded straight from the soundboard on an 8 track ADAT, digital videotape and mixed by Ani and Andrew Gilchrist – Living In Clip is conceptually designed to preserve the authenticity and pulse of a live show. There are jazzy folkalicious renditions of "Letter to A John," "Fire Door," "Diner" and "Anticipate." Amusing and sweet snippets are interwoven throughout the songs and sometimes during them - "Out of Habit" harbors a little cinematic glimpse into Ani's first days in New York City. This dynamic collection also offers The Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra playing on "Both Hands" and "Amazing Grace" at a hockey arena as well as a phenomenal version of "Shy," that was nominated for a Grammy for Best Rock Vocal Performance – Female (or whatever). Living In Clip is also considered one of Rolling Stone Magazine's essential albums of the 90's. Living In Clip includes a beautiful photo gallery that contains pictures of the sparkling faces, questionable attire and unique persons behind the road show.

In celebration of the band's self titled 10th anniversary, and new for 2022, WHITECHAPEL "Whitechapel" available for the first time on "marbled" Vinyl. Originally released in 2012, "Whitechapel" has sold upwards of 60,000 units in the U.S., but has offer very limited pressings on LP. Grab these while you can and see WHITECHAPEL ON TOUR in June / July throughout North America

21st Century pop is curiously irrelevant: autotune, twelve 'writers' on a single song, sensationalist yet skin-deep social commentary . . . with none of the joy, excitement and surprises of pop's lengthy heyday, from the Brill Building through the New Wave era. Where did it go? That would be an apt introduction to an album of calculated throwbacks to a three-minute pop ideal . . . but No Place Like Home isn't that record. We doubt even Gemma could tell you where this collection of beguiling jewels came from exactly, each fully-formed, complete and satisfying, no two quite alike, and each devoid of Wet Leg or Dry Cleaning's crafty calculation, but with every bit of those acts' charm. The first single, Stop, is based on an idea so simple that it's nearly unfathomable why no one had come conjured it earlier. Like toilet paper or a pair of scissors, the song feels entirely obvious until one ponders its late arrival. Stop's motorik beat propels verses to a chorus of pure delight, bested by a bridge occurring so late in the tune that it comes across like a surprise second dessert. My Idea Of Fun, a tale of frequent drunken regret, comes with a video of minimalist humour and visual brilliance. On other songs, Gemma channels acts Delta 5, Au Pairs and The Raincoats, along with the humour of Ian Dury and a similar verité of London life found in the best of Madness. The more serious fare is equally compelling. Rabbit Hole projects a daring newness of young freedom, Dance Of A Thousand Faces veers into Sprechstimme and expands into a swooping chorus, the feel of which subtly conveys present-day tensions reminiscent of the Weimar era. Tailspin captures the dark feeling which comes burdened with real-time consciousness of a loss of control, while the album closer, Frida, a tale of the loss of a dear friend manages to end in a guardedly upbeat tone. Gemma's debut album is sure to stir up deep interest and will be supported by a number of videos and live performances, plus free digital singles featuring otherwise unavailable non- album tracks.

From Pacific City Discs, to you the listener, this summer, a DJ mix of fantasy and splash-energy is coming to you in a small edition of vinyl.  Fantasy writer/recording artist, Francesco Cavaliere, while visiting his seaside childhood vacation location, was extended an impromptu invitation, to DJ an 80s swimming club. He had this to say about his experience:

“I was at Shangri-La and a boy and girl from the bathhouse in silver swimsuits and sand-colored streaks waved me over with a drink and asked me if I would like to DJ the next day during my lesson on the beach at Tana del Pirata! I then and there I laughed but then I accepted (I had nothing at home just my mp3 player and a Nokia with music inside) The next day there was a little wind on the beach and the umbrellas swayed to the left. From the heat they could catch fire, white flames, instead the sea was rough and that wind with very long wrists cheered us up, blowing gaseous clouds in our faces. Perfect for the day ahead. After the first few pieces, I began to see that a group of kids jumped into the adjacent pool trying flips bombs and candle dives. Someone at the bar was playing Altered Beast .. so sipping a drink with ice I imagined DJ werewolf repeating catchy pieces while a kite half cobra half skyscraper inflated above us.”

This Impromptu Disc is fresh now, for you to frolic with this summer, while entertaining a daydream in the midst of entering a body of water while witnessing an apparition in the sky.

Selected and compiled by Francisco Cavaliere
Artwork by Spencer Clark

John Moreland doesn’t have the answers, and he’s not sure anyone does. But he’s still curious, basking in the comfort of a question, and along the way, those of us listening feel moved to ask our own. “I don’t ever want to sound like I have answers, because I don’t,” he says. “These songs are all questions. Everything I write is just trying to figure stuff out.” Moreland is discussing his new album Birds in the Ceiling, a nine-song collection that offers the most comprehensive insight into the thoughts and sounds swimming around in his head to date. A compelling blend of acoustic folk and avant-garde pop playfulness, Birds in the Ceiling lives confidently in a space of its own, enriched by tradition but never encumbered by it. The songwriting that has stunned fans and critics alike since 2015’s High on Tulsa Heat remains potent, while the sonic evolution that unfolds on the record feels like a natural expansion of 2020’s acclaimed LP5. The New Yorker, Pitchfork, Fresh Air, Paste, GQ, and others have embraced Moreland’s meditative songs, while performances on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, CBS This Morning, NPR Tiny Desk Concert, and more have introduced Moreland to millions. And yet, while the Tulsa-based Moreland is grateful for the respect and musical conversation he’s now having with people around the world, he is also more focused on the idea of just talking to one person––or even himself. “Through the years, I’ve felt like I’m increasingly talking to myself in my songs, more and more,” he says. “Maybe in the past, I wasn’t aware of it, but now, I am. I think doing that has helped me be less hard on myself, which makes you more generous and compassionate in general.” That helps explain why even if Moreland is reaching out to someone else, there is no judgment. “I’m in the same boat with whoever I’m talking to,” Moreland says. Moreland’s songs do feel intimate––like overheard conversations or solitary meditations. “I want to talk one-on-one to someone in a song,” he says. “I don’t want to address a group, really, because I think that’s when it’s easy to start pontificating––and it gets less honest.” Letting things just be what they are is a powerful guiding force for Moreland, determining not just how he interacts with others, but how he treats himself. “When you remove boundaries and instead of holding back parts of yourself––when you say, ‘Okay, I’m going to put all of me into this,’” Moreland says, "You end up making music that nobody else could make.”

Obscure Mid 70's Mid Tempo Killer

Producer: Melvin Seals / 1976

Money Mountain BMI / Oakland: California

About Jerone Roy:

Jerone is a highly-skilled singer and entertainer who has been entertaining the audience by putting smiles on faces, warming people’s hearts, igniting song in the soul, and inspiring people to get up and move! His background in music takes him deep from Texas to the Hollywood music industry and back again.

Along the journey, he has developed skills in event management, event planning, singing, television, music production, theatre production, songwriting, recording, festivals, interpersonal skills, acting, and voice-overs.

The Psychedelic Side Of Kosmische Musik

On textstar+ Jan Jelinek brings together the material from the CMYK series, four EPs he released between 1999 and 2002 under the pseudonym farben (the German word for both colours and paints), on a vinyl double LP for the first time. The selection of tracks has been remastered from the original tapes, joined by two additional pieces that appeared on compilations during the same period.

A Polaroid. Still life with tangled leads and consumer electronics, late twentieth century. Black and various shades of dirty white are the dominant non-colours. The image’s spatial depth remains diffuse, the links between its elements speculative. A note stuck to the wall (a legend, perhaps, or an all-explaining blueprint in text form?) is impossible to decipher. You can’t see what connects the picture’s signs. You have to hear it.

farben says: Every sound is a text. A bearer of meaning in search of a reader. Hoping the ideas inscribed in its autonomous existence will be understood as intended. While its beauty lies precisely in misunderstanding, in reading the coded message a new way every time. A thousand colours of sound, a thousand different ways to hear, to see, to understand.

On textstar+ Jan Jelinek brings together the material from the CMYK series, four EPs he released between 1999 and 2002 under the pseudonym farben (the German word for both colours and paints), on a vinyl double LP for the first time. The selection of tracks has been remastered from the original tapes, joined by two additional pieces that appeared on compilations during the same period. Another new element is the Polaroid, showing the origins of a world: Jelinek’s home studio in Berlin at the time.

farben says: Move your body! The project has its roots in Jelinek’s love of house as a reductionist vision of soul. Of four to the floor as a proposition that can be accessed anywhere. Of electronic dance music as a realm of possibility that can be continually expanded. farben was written as contemporary house music. As a text about excitement and euphoria. The arrangements were made directly while recording to DAT, on a twelve-channel mixing desk. Several track titles suggest a link to live concerts, coupled with the context of machine music and bedroom recording. Others affirm pop music’s most extravagant stock phrases about various states of love.

Jelinek produced the tracks with the aim of making music for dancefloors. An idea that failed very productively. In the locations to which it was originally addressed, the project barely figured. But people did listen, and they listened all the more closely to this music that opened up new acoustic and associative scope for house. farben is the opposite of genre: a music spawning new terms (clicks & cuts, micro-house) that never manage to fully capture it.

farben says: Signifiers. The four CMYK EPs are designed as a network of references that cannot be missed but that can also never be precisely deciphered. The vectors of sound, word and image point to Isaac Hayes and Ornette Coleman, to Detroit and the first generation of the Red Army Faction, to Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels. So multifarious that they are distorted to the point of recognition. Overall we hear sonic docufictions whose appealing vagueness derives precisely from this oscillation between clarity and ambiguity, which is also the source of their poetry: the lyricism of the pure circulation of signs.

The artwork is based on photographs of former Red Army Faction members, broken down into the four colours of the CMYK model. The motifs dissolve into individual dots of a single colour, so close to the faces that their expressions are only hinted at. Taken together, the individual colours compose a new whole out of fragmentary material, defying definition and thus maintaining their vibrancy. The same occurs on the level of sound. The sampler Jelinek used for these tracks had to be fed with floppy disks, imposing a memory limit of 1.44 megabytes per audio quotation from soul or jazz records. As a necessary consequence of this, the individual references, like the dots of colour, are dissolved into details and abstractions. They appear as splinters that recombine in new ways to create new meanings. The joy of collapsing metaphors.

farben says: New departures. Even two decades after its original release, textstar+ does not come across as an epitaph to the modern era. Instead, it appears as a euphoric affirmation of the utopias of the twentieth century, translated into new sound texts via the aesthetic strategies of abstraction, collage, networking and speculation. 1.44 megabytes of history, one thousand signifiers, one album. From “Live ...” to “... Love”.

Arno Raffeiner, 2021

The psychedelic French garage duo The Liminanas and german-french music composer & sound engineer David Menke wrote together 2 OST for documentaries . “The Ballad Of Linda L” for the Arte eponymous documentary about the life of Linda Lovelace. And “The Devil Inside me” for the Netflix serie “Monsters Inside : The 24 Faces Of Billy Milligan” . 100% new music, fuzz guitars & garage rock. Both are physically released for the first time as this 2 X Vinyl set, gatefold , collecting the 2 Ost.

VINYL 1 - OST THE BALLAD OF LINDA L
FACE A
1. Prologue 2. Deep 3. Doin' It 4. The Ballad Of Linda L. 5. 80's Score Pt. A 6. 80's Score Pt. B
FACE B
1. Friends On Fire 2. Desolation 3. Romance 4. Punky Disco 5. Linda’s Lament 6. Get up to fight

VINYL 2 - OST THE DEVIL INSIDE ME
FACE A
1. Them 2. Waiting For You 3. Losing Control 4. A Shot Of Whiskey 5. Strange Girl 6. Meeting Morrison 7. Back To Amanda 8. Oh Lord
FACE B
1. Love Around Us 2. Illusion Song 3. USA Motorbike 4. Surfing 5. The Devil Inside Me 6. Savages 7. West Coast 8. Suicide Solution

The Decades Collected compilations are part of the Collected compilation series, which is a collaboration between Universal Music and Music On Vinyl. The compilations bring together the biggest names of each decade, combined with forgotten hits and less discovered gems, giving the listener an experience of listening to their favourite tunes while uncovering new musical grounds at the same time.

Various Artists - Sixties Collected features Love “Alone Again Or”, Cher “Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)”, The Who “Pinball Wizard”, Diana Ross & The Supremes “Love Child”, Steppenwolf “Magic Carpet Ride”, The Animals “House Of The Rising Sun”, The Beach Boys “Good Vibrations”, David Bowie “Love You Till Tuesday”, Bob Dylan “Subterranean Homesick Blues”, Tom Jones “It’s Not Unusual”, Nina Simone “I Put A Spell On You”, Rod Stewart “Handbags & Gladrags” a.o.

Various Artists - Sixties Collected is available on black vinyl and includes an insert.

Distangled brings us this re-issue of the highly sought-after House & Techno EP called Roadrunner by Dutch producer David Spanish. Originally released in very limited quantities back in 1996, this record now changes hands for quite some $$$. The tracks off of the Distangled release are re-mastered from the original master tapes and the EP includes 3 previously unreleased tracks. A very versatile 6 tracker!

New York’s Straw Man Army return with 'SOS', the follow-up to their 2020 debut LP, 'Age of Exile'. Emerging from the D4MT Labs group that also includes Kaleidoscope and Tower 7, Straw Man Army’s delicate musical touch, embrace of melody, and rapid-fire, clearly articulated vocals separate them from the louder and noisier end of New York’s fertile punk scene. While 'Age of Exile' examined the legacy of colonialism through the musical milieu of melodic anarcho-punk, 'SOS' turns its attention to the increasingly bleak prospects for the human race and planet earth. While Straw Man Army’s lyrical approach remains dense and thought provoking on 'SOS', their musical scope grows wider, encompassing 'Age of Exile’s' melodic take on anarcho, bleak and brooding post-punk, psychedelic instrumental excursions, and even the wistful pop of album highlight 'Beware'. 'SOS' is everything Straw Man Army’s fans could have hoped for in a follow-up and so much more, cementing the band’s status as one of the most original, exciting, and important groups in the contemporary punk underground.

Now reduced to half price. The Moles is a fitting incognito pseudonym synonym nom de guerre pen name make believe disguise cloak for most of the musical ideas I get. The album has accumulated over many years. I recorded in Boston, New York, and Western Massachusetts when ideas and opportunities came along. It is almost like a journal covering 15 years,” explains legendary tunesmith Richard Davies (Cardinal, solo). Recorded with like-minded cohorts such as Boston veterans Bob Fay (Sebadoh) and Malcolm Travis (Sugar), as well as New York City fresh faces Dion Nania (Free Time) and Jarvis Taveniere (Woods), the collected songs continue his streak of dazzling and unique psych pop. The record follows on the heels of the 2014 comprehensive reissue of their past discography; “Flashbacks and Dream Sequences: The Story Of The Moles” as well as a triumphant show at Glastonbury. Quotes - “The greatest differentiator between the work of the Moles and that of their contemporaries, though, is Davies himself. As a presence, there is something deeply and beguilingly inscrutable about him, a purposeful blankness that betrays an enormous amount of weight and depth behind it, and oozes both vulnerability and vitriol when it breaks and cracks.” – PITCHFORK // “Classic sparkling Oceania indie-pop.” – STEREOGUM.

For his first solo album since the early 1990s, Steven Brown,
Tuxedomoon's joint-front man, delivers a hypnotic collection of songs
which draws from his life in Mexico, where he's been living for many
years

'El Hombre Invisible' is centred around his emblematic vocals, melodies and lyrics, set in an intimate environment, with sparse elegant, arrangements for guitar, bass, occasional horns, and his own trademark piano and saxophone playing.The atmosphere and lyrics of the songs reflect some of the experiences and impressions he has gathered including earthquakes, a kidnapping, rubbing shoulders with the Zapatistas in Chiapas, and being confronted with the still omnipresent traces of the Spanish conquest five centuries. Other influences are Steven's years of working as a cultural activist, and his enduring love for the beauty of the natural world and the people of his hometown of Oaxaca. El Hombre Invisible was recorded in Oaxaca with local musicians, including Lila Downs, who duets with him on the song Familias Ricas plus special guests:

Tuxedomoon's Luc van Lieshout on trumpet and Chris Haskett (ex-Rollins Band) on guitar.

Twice JUNO-nominated and two-time Polaris Prize listed, Toronto's soul songstress Tanika Charles unveils her album "Papillon de Nuit: The Night Butterfly".

"Papillon de Nuit: The Night Butterfly" is the third studio album from Canadian Soul/R&B powerhouse Tanika Charles and is slated to be released worldwide on Milan-based Record Kicks label on April 08th. Composed and recorded while in and out of lockdowns, "Papillon de Nuit" is an album anchored in growth and maturity. The thematic inspiration came from an unlikely source, a creature that soars after the sun sets, but often goes unnoticed until the light shines on it. It is the "papillon de nuit" to some, but drably referred to as a moth by others, revealing a bias in language alone.

"I always thought it was a strange insect. Once while in Paris, a friend swatted at one and I asked: 'Was that a moth?'. I was told: 'No, that's a papillon de nuit.' I thought that was the most beautiful description for this otherwise overlooked creature. When I later learned of the symbolism associated with it, I felt that really spoke to both my own situation and also what we've all been going through." Production on "Papillon de Nuit" was helmed by a mixture of old and new collaborators. The Safe Spaceship Records production team, consisting of Scott McCannell (Lydia Persaud, Claire Davis), Ben MacDonald and Chino de Villa (re.verse, Jessie Reyez), produced four songs on the album. The group also assisted as session musicians for songs produced by newcomer Todd "HiFiLo" Pentney (Allison Au Quartet, JUNO Award winner). "The Gumption" contributor Kevin Henkel ("Tell Me Something", "Look At Us Now") returned with three compositions, and old friend Jesse Bear (Sean Kingston, Stan Walker) contributed to one song.

Following the success of "Soul Run" (2016/17) and "The Gumption" (2019), Tanika had found a comfortable pace of releasing albums then hitting the road the following year to bring her show to new markets far and wide. So when things changed for all of us, and plans of touring "The Gumption" properly fell through, there was a realization that getting to work on the next project was the healthiest choice to make.

"I was in some dark places. My energy was stagnant and the only reliable constant was this perpetual uncertainty. I had gone from feeling like I was everywhere to only being in one place. From seeing so many new faces, to only my own, in the mirror, everyday and having to face that. Getting back to work on music allowed me to explore these feelings through the format I know best. And I wanted to make sure that when things were ready to resume, I'd be ready with something new for my audience too."

Tanika, who took part in the writing of most of the album, was also assisted by regular co-writer Robert Bolton ("Soul Run", "Remember to Remember") and accomplished solo performer Tafari Anthony (Priyanka, of RuPaul's Drag Race). Featured guests include the multi-disciplinary artist Khari McClelland and rising Toronto rapper, DijahSB. Both Dakarai Morris-James (Joanna Majoko, BeBe Zahara Benet) and Sean "D/SHON" Henderson ("Love Overdue", Serena Ryder) assisted with vocal arrangements across multiple songs.


"I think this album represents my best work to date. And yet, it also represents me coming to terms with who I am as an artist. For the first time I think I've actually accepted my own voice. I can hear beyond the imperfections, and I realized that when paired with the right music, it can sound pretty good. I still have my doubts and my dark places, but a little less of them."

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it’s Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music.

Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution.

Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo’s capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists.

On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui not only the musician, but the man someone whose age hasn’t altered any of his freshness or authenticity

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it’s Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music.

Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution.

Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo’s capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists.

On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui not only the musician, but the man someone whose age hasn’t altered any of his freshness or authenticity

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it’s Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music.

Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution.

Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo’s capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists.

On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui not only the musician, but the man someone whose age hasn’t altered any of his freshness or authenticity

'Other Dimensions Lp', Terrence Dixon's latest work and the new adventure in 30D's ExoPlanets sublabel, comes for the very first time released in full length format, split in two sides, showing Terrence's two faces. As everyone knows, words can not describe the music of this Detroit visionary, but we'll try. Futuristic, avant-garde-esque, mesmerizing, trippy and minimalistic / reduced techno funk as expected in A side, but highly emotional and evocative, as only he can do. On the flip side, Terrence redefines and takes to another level the concept of dark, experimental, abstract, atmospheric, alienated and dystopian music, a true musical trip (perhaps a nightmare???) to dive into. An extremely personal and intimate album.

Meaning all things magick and supernatural, the root of the word occult is that which is hidden, concealed, beyond the limits of our minds. If this is occult, then the Occult Architecture of Moon Duo’s fourth album - a psychedelic opus in two separate volumes released in 2017 - is an intricately woven hymn to the invisible structures found in the cycle of seasons and the journey of day into night, dark into light.

Offering a cosmic glimpse into the hidden patterning embedded in everything, Occult Architecture reflects the harmonious duality of these light and dark ener¬gies through the Chinese theory of Yin and Yang.

In Chinese, Yin means “the shady side of the hill” and is associated with the feminine, darkness, night, earth. Following this logic, Vol. 1 embraces and embod¬ies Moon Duo’s darker qualities — released appropriately on February 3, in the heart of winter in the Northern Hemisphere.

According to guitarist Ripley Johnson, “the concept of the dark/light, two-part album came as we were recording and mixing the songs, beginning in the dead of winter and continuing into the rebirth and blossoming of the spring. There’s something really powerful about the changing of the seasons in the Northwest, the physical and psychic impact it has on you, especially after we spent so many years in the seasonal void of California. I became interested in gnostic and her¬metic literature around that time, especially the relationship between music and occult qualities and that fed into the whole vibe.”

Adds keyboardist Sanae Yamada, “the two parts are also intended to represent inverted components of a singular entity, like two faces on the same head which stare always in opposite directions but are inextricably driven by the same brain.”

Possessing one of the most distinctive and recognizable voices on the planet, former Men at Work frontman Colin Hay faces down struggle, loss and the existential questions about mortality on 'Now And Evermore', his first collection of new material since the 2016 release of Fierce Mercy

Written and recorded in Hay's adopted hometown of Los Angeles and at Compass Sound Studio in Nashville, the collection is a defiantly joyful celebration of life and love, one that insists on finding silver linings and reasons to smile through the challenges of recent times. That's not to say the record deludes itself about the realities of our modern world, but rather that it consistently chooses to respond to pain with beauty and doubt with wonder. The music on the new album
brims with fanciful melodies and lush orchestration. Hay's performances are likewise animated and full of life, drawing on vintage pop charm, pub rock muscle, and folk sincerity to forge a sound that's at once playful and profound, clever and compassionate, whimsical and earnest.

Upon completion of the Stu Cook produced Roky Erickson & The Aliens LP in the summer of 1979, Roky decided to return home to Austin from San Francisco

He needed a band and The Explosives came highly recommended to Roky's manager, Craig Luckin - Introductions were made and rehearsals began. Roky & The Explosives immediately hit it off, musically and personally. They played together in Texas and California from 1979-1981 logging in around 50 shows.
13th Floor Elevators drummer John Ike Walton remarked to Explosives drummer Freddie Steady Krc "You guys played more shows with Roky than the Elevators did!" The guys got in the van and barnstormed all over the Lone Star State.
Bootleg recordings began to emerge that were sub- quality live performance recordings that everyone was making money off except Roky and The Explosives.
Craig and Freddie agreed Freddie would review all the recordings they could find from 1979-81. Almost all were in Craig's possession. Upon final review, Freddie would select the best performance of each song they were playing live from that time period. Some like 'Heroin' and 'I've Just Seen a Face' were called on the spot by Roky at a show, performed once and never played again. After the music was selected, Craig and Freddie went through their personal collection of photos,
poster images and added a complete show itinerary from 1979-81.
'Halloween' is a loving collection of performances documenting a time of Roky's re- emergence into the rock music world. It was something most thought they would never see after his final days with 13th Floor Elevators, following drug busts and his plunge into mental illness eventually ending in his stay at Rusk State Mental Hospital. This record is a testimony of Roky's personal strength and will to return to performing and songwriting. Long live his music!