Cerca:forced meditation

Having plied his trade around the world for more than three decades, German guitarist, bandleader and musical explorer Jan Whitefield has always instilled in his craft a natural aesthetic of authenticity, a key component which has seen him amass a sizeable and varied catalogue of material which has remained timeless where some of his contemporaries have faded away.

In the early 90s, as various UK bands were signed up by sizeable labels and enjoyed even mainstream chart success in the Acid Jazz and rare groove boom, Jan and his brother Max formed the Poets Of Rhythm, self-releasing their own uncompromisingly hard-edged take on 70s street funk on the then completely unfashionable 7" single format, forerunning the Deep Funk scene by almost a decade. 30 years on, in spite of a legion of retro-focused bands having followed in their wake, few have yet to come close to matching the energy and spirit of those early Poets 45s.

Since then, Jan has applied himself to all manner of new incarnations and innovative side-projects, releasing further funk surveys as the Whitefield Brothers before leading his own band under the pseudonym Karl Hector, with releases on labels such as Stones Throw, Daptone, Ninja Tune, Mo'Wax, Strut and more. An avid music lover, explorer and record collector extraordinaire, Whitefield's music has effortlessly absorbed his expanding interests along the way, particularly drawing influence from Ethiopian Jazz and West African funk and highlife, as well as Kraut-rock and ambient via his Rodinia alter-ego.

More recently, Whitefield has begun to venture into the astral planes of what's now commonly referred to as 'spiritual jazz', and this is very much where we find him manifesting on 'The Infinity Of Nothingness'. A set of mature, delicate and meditative orchestrations, like much of Whitefield's best work the album is studiously true to its key influences - and in this instance the twin figureheads of Sun Ra and Pharoah Sanders are particularly preeminent - but also completely avoids falling into a trap of mere tribute or facsimile. With subtle yet diverse accents of Hip Hop, Library and the Avant Garde appearing wholly unobtrusively, the album is unified by a marked trance-like feel, beginning with the sparse, processional opener 'Nothingness' through to the 3 part 'Infinity Suite' of 'Time', 'Space' and 'Energy'.

As he did as a schoolboy with the Poets of Rhythm, with 'The Infinity Of Nothingness' Whitefield achieves that exceptionally rare feat of creating music that is not only worthy of sitting alongside that of his overarching influences, but will also stand up with it against the tests of time.

Hailed by Pitchfork for his “ambient, intimate…songs that blossom gently with intricate musical details and enigmatic lyrics,” Conner Youngblood gained early acclaim with a series of self-released singles and EPs before breaking out internationally with his 2018 full-length debut, Cheyenne, which fused electronic and analog elements into a lush mix of bedroom pop and chamber folk. Youngblood toured the record heavily until 2020, when the pandemic forced him off the road and, hungry for fresh inspiration, he began enrolling in Russian, Danish, Spanish, and Japanese language lessons. He didn’t realize it at the time, but those classes weren’t just expanding his vocabulary, they were laying the groundwork for his most ambitious, experimental album yet: Cascades, Cascading, Cascadingly.
 
Written and recorded at home in Nashville, the collection is a dreamy series of meditations steeped in desire and yearning, loneliness and loss, exhilaration and escape. The lyrics blur the lines between fact and fiction, toying with magical realism and outright abstraction in various languages, and the arrangements are surreal and cinematic to match, hinting at everything from Cocteau Twins to Atoms For Peace. In addition to producing and engineering, Youngblood played every instrument on the album himself, and the result is a pure, unfiltered journey deep into the subconscious of a relentlessly curious artist, one with a boundless imagination and an insatiable appetite for sonic exploration. 

Julek ploski’s ‘Give up Channel’ is on mappa. It’s the follow-up to the Poland-based FL Studio demon’s ‘Hotel *’, released via Orange Milk in 2023.

It’s an album that wrestles against a shadow self. It’s about shelter from the hailstorm of unwanted memories and guilt pangs and serrated blades of thought. It’s about clinging on to some semblance of hope, knuckles taut and teeth gritted.

The fragmented drift of opener ‘Naysayer’ flows forward like an anxious daydream, pad eddies and piano plinks anchored by Trapaholics drops and bursts of guaracha drums. It’s a mess of mind: the bleakness of ‘Truth’ is punctuated by gun cocking and bullet spray and sudden jester-like blasts of unhinged, schizo-whimsical melody. An internal war without a clear winner.

Shame snakes through this music like venom through an emaciated body. Blue screenlight in a dark bedroom, pulsating temples, lockjaw. ‘Titanic’ hits like the thrashing resistance of a being built for love grappling against the scalding vengefulness it’s forced to contend with, the song’s abstracted rave synths giving way to warped voices and spiralling derangement. ‘Hollywood’ is a scarred battleground, the martial bludgeoning of a tightly wound hardstyle stomp blistering and shredding a delicate piano-and-string arrangement.

This music is about deep solitude, a meditation on simmering, slow-marinating hatred. But it’s ultimately about prevailing. It doesn’t revel in negativity, it roils and twists and writhes against it. Dots of light in oppressive darkness. Clarity and purpose against chaos and filth. It’s a struggle worth waging.










h I Was #AllAlone Movements V - VIII
[i] Economy [Movements I - IV]

All the shades of green. Plants. Water. The absolute necessities of life. Music, too, is an absolute necessity. To capture both color and sound in a bottle to put atop a piano like a houseplant. A clock. A fern. Synesthesia. This music is meant for that. To close your eyes and see green. To drown in the color of piano. A melancholic covey that pulls hard on the heart strings musically and lyrically, brushed over with a plethora of improvisation in smooth watercolors.

With Tim Hill’s new trajectory, we are offered a fresh neuron sprawl, branching beyond lyrics in interrupted pieces of sound. He takes our reptilian brains and welds them to our unborn futures, placing us inside of his droplet. Here, we're forced to reflect out, something singular multiplies, nature brings her face in, something shifts, our speed changes, the Self refracts and what's left jumps on sustained lines that eventually arch into meditation milk. It becomes a karmic cleanse of the amygdala, a launch from normal feeling life. Tim takes the risk, committing to diving deeper into his own bottomless pool of art, gifting us with sensory treats that dilate our old perimeters. It's sky as theatre, handing out everything but answers to questions. And where do we go? Where starlight mingles. Where minds never land.

A seasoned musician in all forms, Tim Hill has toured the world as a keyboardist, guitarist, saxophonist, and drummer, with a long time stint with LA group the Allah Las, and well known acts such as Nick Waterhouse, Curtis Harding, PAINT, and others.

Sea Blue in Coke Bottle Clear Vinyl.

Because Hold, Jack Tatum's fifth album under the moniker Wild Nothing, was written in the aftermath of new parenthood during the pandemic, it was probably inevitable that it would be searching and existential music. But during the recording process, the artist known for synth-pop tastefulness used it as an opportunity to reach for a new sonic maximalism and wider set of influences. With contributions from longtime collaborator Jorge Elbrecht, Tommy Davidson of Beach Fossils and Hatchie's Harriette Pilbeam, first single "Headlights On" features an acid house-worthy bass groove and breakbeat that prove Tatum is playing for the rafters. Tatum produced the rest of the record on his own, partially out of necessity, due to the challenges of the pandemic. The songs were eventually brought to Adrian Olsen at Montrose Recording in Richmond to begin recording drums and filling in the gaps. While largely a product of isolation, Hold also reflects the things Tatum has learned from collaborators, both on previous records and during his acclaimed work with Japanese Breakfast and Molly Burch. The rest of the record was mixed by Geoff Swan, who listeners might know for his work with Caroline Polachek and Charli XCX. Swan put Tatum's vocals high in the mix, and throughout the album, he embraces playful vocal processing like never before. Tatum moved from Los Angeles back to his home state of Virginia about five years ago in search of a scaled-back lifestyle. The relatively suburban environment - and the occasional regret it inspired - proved to be great artistic fodder. It's the paradox of modern America - the suburbs are supposed to be stultifying to art, but they are so full of human desperation perfect for dramatizing. On "Suburban Solutions", he presents an anti-jingle with an acidly bright synthesizer melody, imploring you to sign on the dotted line, put your feet up, and embrace sweet oblivion. Adding to the song's menacing cheeriness is a chorus-sung bridge, made with assistance from Molly Burch and Tatum's wife, Dana, It was loosely inspired by the classic Martika song "Toy Soldiers" and the long-ago pop craze for children's choirs, and he embraces the trend's less-than-stellar reputation. By design, Hold dwells in uncertainty and fear, but in a package that encourages meditation and a bit of fun. "In the face of the pandemic, I think being a parent really forced my hand," Tatum said. "I felt that I had no other choice but to have a positive outlook on the world. Because if I were to give in at any moment and say, "Oh, everything is horrible," then I'll feel as if I've lost and I've given up on my son being able to thrive in this world."

Sea Blue in Coke Bottle Clear Vinyl LP + artist signed art print. Only 200 available.

Because Hold, Jack Tatum's fifth album under the moniker Wild Nothing, was written in the aftermath of new parenthood during the pandemic, it was probably inevitable that it would be searching and existential music. But during the recording process, the artist known for synth-pop tastefulness used it as an opportunity to reach for a new sonic maximalism and wider set of influences. With contributions from longtime collaborator Jorge Elbrecht, Tommy Davidson of Beach Fossils and Hatchie's Harriette Pilbeam, first single "Headlights On" features an acid house-worthy bass groove and breakbeat that prove Tatum is playing for the rafters. Tatum produced the rest of the record on his own, partially out of necessity, due to the challenges of the pandemic. The songs were eventually brought to Adrian Olsen at Montrose Recording in Richmond to begin recording drums and filling in the gaps. While largely a product of isolation, Hold also reflects the things Tatum has learned from collaborators, both on previous records and during his acclaimed work with Japanese Breakfast and Molly Burch. The rest of the record was mixed by Geoff Swan, who listeners might know for his work with Caroline Polachek and Charli XCX. Swan put Tatum's vocals high in the mix, and throughout the album, he embraces playful vocal processing like never before. Tatum moved from Los Angeles back to his home state of Virginia about five years ago in search of a scaled-back lifestyle. The relatively suburban environment - and the occasional regret it inspired - proved to be great artistic fodder. It's the paradox of modern America - the suburbs are supposed to be stultifying to art, but they are so full of human desperation perfect for dramatizing. On "Suburban Solutions", he presents an anti-jingle with an acidly bright synthesizer melody, imploring you to sign on the dotted line, put your feet up, and embrace sweet oblivion. Adding to the song's menacing cheeriness is a chorus-sung bridge, made with assistance from Molly Burch and Tatum's wife, Dana, It was loosely inspired by the classic Martika song "Toy Soldiers" and the long-ago pop craze for children's choirs, and he embraces the trend's less-than-stellar reputation. By design, Hold dwells in uncertainty and fear, but in a package that encourages meditation and a bit of fun. "In the face of the pandemic, I think being a parent really forced my hand," Tatum said. "I felt that I had no other choice but to have a positive outlook on the world. Because if I were to give in at any moment and say, "Oh, everything is horrible," then I'll feel as if I've lost and I've given up on my son being able to thrive in this world."

Vinyl Packaging: Gatefold LP + download card. Indie Exclusive Transparent Orange vinyl in gatefold jacket Limited to 1000. CD 6 panel Digipak. Gnosis is the highly anticipated 8th full length from Russian Circles. Across the span of their previous seven studio albums, Chicago-based instrumental trio Russian Circles traversed a diverse topography of sounds, moods, and approaches with their limited armory of drums, bass, and guitar. It’s difficult to chart an evolution in their sound when their records have always felt like well-curated playlists. It wasn’t uncommon to hear drone-heavy meditations, dazzling prog exercises, knuckle-dragging riff-fests, haunting folk ballads, and tension-baiting noise rock all within the span of one album. Still, it’s difficult to ignore the progression from the pensive and intricate melodies of Enter (2006) to the layered distorted dirges of Blood Year (2019). It’s been a gradual sonic shift owing to the band’s rigorous tour schedule and a predilection towards playing their more authoritative material on stage. But with their latest album, Gnosis, Russian Circles eschew the varied terrain of their past work and bulldoze a path through the most tumultuous and harrowing territory of their sound. As was the case for so many artists in the age of COVID, the obstacles of geography and isolation forced Russian Circles to reevaluate their writing process. Rather than crafting songs out of fragmented ideas in the practice room, full songs were written and recorded independently before being shared with other members, so that their initial vision was retained. While these demos spanned the full breadth of the band’s varied styles, the more cinematic compositions were ultimately excised in favor of the physically cathartic pieces. Gnosis was engineered and mixed by Kurt Ballou. Drums and bass were tracked at Electrical Audio in Chicago to maximize the natural room sounds of the rhythm section. Guitar and synth overdubs were conducted at God City in Salem, MA to take advantage of Ballou’s vast inventory of amps and effects pedals. Despite the entirety of the album being written remotely, the songs were recorded with the full band playing together to retain the live feel of the material. Owing to the climate of the times and a new writing method, Russian Circles created their most fuming and focused work to date—an album that favors the exorcism of two years’ worth of tension over the melancholy and restraint that often colored their past endeavors. European Co-Headline tour with Cult of Luna slated for Marc 2023 (Dates TBA). Russian Circles have received coverage from most notable press including Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, Stereogum, FADER, AV Club, Consequence, Decibel, Revolver and much more.

Rose City Band is celebrated guitarist Ripley Johnson. A prolific songwriter, Johnson started Rose City Band to have an outlet to explore songwriting styles apart from Wooden Shjips and Moon Duo, where he is often not the lead songwriter. Rose City Band allowed him to follow his musical muses as they greet him and not be bound by the schedule of bandmates and demands of a touring group. Stepping out from behind the psychedelic haze that envelops his other output, Rose City Band"s lean yet richly textured arrangements lay bare the beauty of his songcraft. On Earth Trip, Johnson reveals more of himself than ever before, coloring the project"s country-rock twang with a melancholic, wistful undertone. It charts a journey of personal growth and introspection with surprising honesty, from pining for summers spent with friends to meditations on space, stillness and the splendor of the natural world. It continues Rose City Band"s celebration of summer warmth and the great outdoors, seen from a new vantage point, and with newfound appreciation for the freedom and joy that nature provides. Earth Trip was written during a period of sudden shocks and drastic lifestyle changes for Johnson. Forced to cancel extensive touring plans for 2020, the guitarist found himself home for an extended period for the first time in years. No longer in constant motion, he was able to experience and enjoy the simple pleasures of home life, of being in one place: hikes in nature, bathing outside, and waking with the dawn. Forming new connections to his surroundings, from tending to a garden to sleeping out under the stars, Johnson found hope and healing in a more mindful relationship with the natural world. Themes of recalibration and finding personal space are equally mirrored in Earth Trip"s lean production. Recorded at his home studio in Portland and mixed by Cooper Crain (Bitchin" Bajas, Cave), Johnson makes deft use of space while experimenting with new sonics. Shimmering pedal steel, woozy harmonica melodies, and stately piano enhance the album"s introspective tone without ever clouding arrangements. Psychedelic elements that nod to Johnson"s other projects and influences still appear throughout, but hover at the edge of perception, a subtle halo adding colour and texture to Johnson"s songwriting rather than taking centrer-stage. He elaborates: "I told Cooper I was trying to capture that feeling when you take psychedelics and they just start coming on - maybe objects start buzzing in the edges of your vision, you start seeing slight trails, maybe the characteristics of sound change subtly. But you"re not fully tripping yet. He got the idea right away and his mix really captures that feeling." Johnson"s lithe guitar playing throughout treads a fine line between country and cosmic, taut melodies spiralling out into long reverb trails or free-form solos buoyed by a breeze, radiating summer warmth. Through its daring honesty and masteful arrangements, Earth Trip cements Johnson"s place as a singular songwriter of inimitable skill. It"s message of mindfulness and our interconnectedness to the environment expands on a long country and blues music tradition that draws a symbiotic relationship between storyteller and the land, capturing the beauty of the natural world while also emphasising our responsibility in preserving it for future generations