Suche:fraught

Channeling inventive sound design into incisive, characterful techno variations, Jurango returns to Livity Sound with an eight-track double EP — his longest release to date. Taíno Gold captures a moment in time for Bristol-based Nate Reece's continually evolving sound as it draws on the full spectrum of UK club music.

Following a debut for Livity's reverse label in 2021 and last year's An Amorphous Mass EP, Reece is more assured than ever tackling a variety of club-focused cuts. The tracks on the release all came together before, during and after a two-month visit to Reece's grandparents' home — an idyllic tropical environment in a small community at the top of a hill in the northern part of Jamaica.

Taíno Gold refers to the island's indigenous Taíno community and the legend of a witch luring Spanish settlers into a trap on the Martha Brae river. There are no messages explicitly embedded in the music, but the release is both a personal reflection of Reece's own experiences and family heritage, plus a reminder about the enduring sceptre of colonialism and the continued need to fight against it. From absorbing Jamaica's fraught history through museum and plantation visits to the abundant nature in the garden surrounding his grandparent's house, the double EP marks a place in time for Reece, with eight advanced, ear-catching tracks as the end result.

From the cascading arps of 'Black Torches' to the tunnelling chords of 'Waiting For Trelawny', the melodic dimension of the Jurango sound is more confident than ever. 'Hibiscus' is a shimmering celebration of dub techno and crooked drum pressure and 'Chalk On Trees' basks in aqueous, fathoms-deep pads to close out the EP. Elsewhere, Reece brings new textural and tonal detail to his percussive workouts, splashing acidic noise around the angular experimentation of 'Maybe It's Broken' and firing off double-time rhythms to inject 'Double Sevens' with infectious urgency.

With the space afforded by a longer release, Reece widens out the scope of his artistic identity while absorbing the particular scene and setting that surrounded him while making the tracks. Taíno Gold is a vibrant next step for Jurango and a natural continuation of his work with Livity Sound.

Livity Sound is a label set up by Peverelist in 2011 as a vehicle for a raw and exploratory strain of UK techno, rooted in the heritage of UK dance music and sound system culture. It has since become one of the UK's foremost protagonists for cutting edge underground electronic music.

Black vinyl LP. Following 2019's acclaimed self-titled debut album, Metal Preyers take the left hand path into a gloomy backwater filled with haunted creatures and fraught with peril. "Shadow Swamps" again finds London-based Jesse Hackett handling the music and Chicago's Mariano Chavez fashioning the album's visual identity, which this time includes a short film and book for a fully immersive experience. "Shadow Swamps" is the soundtrack to a pitch-black fairy tale about a father and daughter as they journey through a swamp avoiding gremlins, red swines and crater creatures. Musically, it pivots between the clattering Czech new wave experimentation of "Valerie and her Week of Wonders" composer Luboš Fišer, or the magical, eccentric lounge of Birmingham's Broadcast, and the grinding industrial grot of Italian pioneer Maurizio Bianchi. This time around, Hackett has roped in production assists from his six year-old-daughter wonder Nyasha hackett who used phone memos to record herself singing - veteran Metal Preyers collaborator Lord Tusk, and Manchester-based painter, DJ and producer Richard Harris, aka Sockethead. The crew inks an unsettling, richly textured sonic landscape, with claws of rhythmic smoke curling around chiming otherworldly xylophone, disembodied fiddle drones echoing over screwed 'n chopped beatbox dirt and half-heard magical vocals buried under clouds of white noise. Track listing: 1 Murking Shadows 2 Ecto Green Code 3 The Preyers Forest 4 Scream Dreamer 5 Red Swines 6 Crate Creature 7 Carpenters Cabin 8 Slime Things Accent 9 Wasp Faced Invasion 10 Metal Mans Revolt 11 On Her Way 12 Gremlin Gurgle 13 Shadow Swamps 14 Escape - The Sunrise

Plying refracted rhythms with an exacting poise, Aerae arrives on Samurai Music with a fully formed sound that plumbs the depths between techno immersion and D&B beat science.

An accomplished, palpable tension runs throughout Nefanda, Aerae's second solo release. Following up on the meditative pulse of her debut album on Annulled Music last year, the Paris-based artist digs deeper into ominous atmospheres filled with evocative reverb decays and taut, dynamic drum work - tools she wields to Redner tracks with specific meaning, coded by the Latin framing that runs through all aspects of her musical output. Contemplating the ancient language as an inescapable part of her European roots, on Nefanda Aerae ruminates on external trials and inner impulses, and conjures a jaw-clenching soundtrack to match.

'Mons' (translation: 'Mountain') speaks to challenges, strength and spiritual ascent, marked out by an urgent thrum of conga slaps and a 4/4 kick around the 170 BPM mark that finds power in minimalism even at the relatively high tempo.
The title track opts for a more broken framework, pivoting pointed percussion around a deft sub pulse while turning up the intensity with an exacting poise.

'Nefanda' translates as 'unspeakable,' or 'too horrific to name,' and the fraught, synthetic wraiths contorting through the track convey the dread the title implies.
'Fovea' (translation: 'pit') burrows deeper into spatial design with a looming low end rumble and subliminal sound sculpture, shaping out a dark, introspective chasm tipped towards disassociation. It's a powerful statement in any setting, but the all-consuming bass feels especially crafted for full, physical sound system immersion.

'Phrenesis' (translation: 'frenzy') rounds the EP out in fierce form, building up a high-pressure arrangement from ambient beginnings with ruthless control. There's a sense of duality in motion between half-time and double-time rhythmic elements, every incremental shift adding to the intensity of the track with the elegant, impactful touch that has fast become Aerae's calling card.

Finding her own language within the dialogue between techno, D&B and dark ambient, Aerae's music makes a vivid impression thanks to the ideas and intention that drive her in the studio. Nefanda confirms her status as a leading light in deep, psychedelic dance music, making something extremely personal that also reaches out beyond notions of the self like all the best transcendental music.

Bangladeshi Born Producer Lady Tazz, debuts ‘Sleaze’ with a killer remix from Radio Slave this June. At the heart of Lady Tazz’s mission is Mind Medizin, her label and event series that champions the sound of kindred spirits, now inviting Radio Slave to the mix this June.

Lady Tazz has overcome many cultural obstacles to achieve her rightful place as one of Toronto’s foremost electronic dance exports. A renegade of sorts, as a teenager, she would regularly visit the UK and Germany without her parents’ knowledge to attend London’s Sound Academy and to party in Berlin, whilst continuing to pursue her aspirations of becoming a DJ.

The Bangladeshi producer and DJ is proud of her heritage but is realistic about the social expectations of throwing raves in her hometown. She moved to Toronto in her teenage years, where she grew up, educating herself on music and a place that has perfected a sound that remains organic and raw. Her record label and party series, Mind Medizin, taps into an erotic lifestyle that embraces the unconventional and free-spirited, which inspires and motivates Lady Tazz on numerous artistic levels.

For Mind Medzin’s latest release, Lady Tazz will drop ‘Sleaze’ on the 27th June, to include a special remix from Rekids founder and UK godfather, Radio Slave, making his debut on her label.
Foreboding and dripping with lascivious intent, ‘Sleaze’ brazenly stalks into existence by way of warping synth fills and glitching hi-hats. The lyrical component consists of a series of smouldering vocal hooks which salaciously enrapture one’s senses, tightly wrapping around the creeping melody before succumbing to the beat’s stomping dominance.

On the flipside, Radio Slave’s remix revs and fires with shots of ringing overtones atop a deep thud, husky vocal and swooshing cymbals. Whilst upping the ante of the original, its stripped-back charm remains, culminating in a moody, chugging rework bubbling with tension and fraught with Radio Slave’s brand of dark, fractured house.

Zuul supplies pressure control’s debut release, Routine Machine.

Following releases on Exarde and White Scar, the Laik label-head’s signature sound takes a menacing turn. In a departure from his usual output he delivers a grizzly 5 tracker filled with EBM, New Beat and Wave affined floor-fillers; all fraught with tension, straight out of the Kirkstall strip.

Fitting for peak-time, warm-ups and rub-downs, the EP is filled with snarling, left-of-centre bombs. All reminiscent of the golden-era sound forged in Frankfurt and Ghent circa 88-91, with new-school stylings for the modern day working disk-jockey.

Constructed exclusively for dark and discerning dance floors.

You can run, but you can’t hide.

Credits:
All music by Ollie Burgess
Pressing and distribution by by One Eye Witness
Design by Al Robertson
Mastering by Marco Pellegrino
Words by Josh Bayat

FRQNCY LDN, the new project from Alex Lavery and James Ford (producer du jour and one half of Simian Mobile Disco), are releasing their debut album ‘The White Edition’ on 5 September via PRAH Recordings. Alongside the news of their debut album, the duo are sharing the first taste in ‘Matthias’ Wajd’, which they describe as “a rousing, instrumental piece from the middle of the set where the whole ensemble became balanced providing moments where Raven played violin with haunting yet uplifting melodies within the cavernous reverb of the church. Interestingly, at this moment, most of the audience who had been laying down rose to watch the performance like a gig, like an awakening.”

Initially conceived as a live project with earlier performances at churches in London and at Glastonbury, FRQNCY LDN’s music is a mix of strings, gongs, oscillators, FX, and spoken word, and the result is a musical experience unlike any other. Now that immersive magic has been captured on their debut release through Prah Recordings.

The music that FRQNCY LDN are releasing as their debut album is from an extraordinary live take from a performance at St Matthias Church in Stoke Newington last year, and thanks in no small part to the serendipitous bunch of musicians they assembled: composer and violinist Raven Bush, clarinettist Arun Ghosh, cellist Satin Beige Chousmer, and harpist Chloe Chousmer-Kerr. Alongside Lavery and Ford and assisted by engineer Animesh Ravel, they were able to capture the music to a world class level.

FRQNCY LDN has its roots in a supermoon that occurred three summers ago, after the hottest day of the year. Two of Lavery’s friends gave a sound bath that evening. “I’m not overly into astronomy or anything but the experience was nuts,” he says. “I had to find out what had just happened. What felt like forty minutes was actually two and a half hours. We were all out. It was so profound that I was hooked.”

He immediately signed up for a sound therapy course where he learned about what he calls a “brain hack” to meditation. “The thing about sound therapy is there’s a lot that’s meditation-based, and I find meditation really difficult. I’ve got a very busy brain. What was alluring about this process of sound immersion, a sound bath, whatever you want to call it, is it’s basically a hack to making your brain get into a meditative state.”

FRQNCY LDN’s early shows crystallised their ideas into a project, and Lavery brought poet Nikita Gill on board as a vocalist. “One of the first poems she gave to me, ‘Unwitches’ was in response to me explaining that I’d love this project to be perceived as something anyone could access. It’s not just for the sound meditation or the yoga, or the mushroom crowd. No one should be turned off by connotations from where the music comes from, I love music but I’d never be into that because it’s too woo-woo. Nikita said she’d had this poem for a long time but she’d never found the right home for it.”

And in an increasingly busy and fraught world, the need to tune out for an hour or so, and maybe tune in to something more profound, is only going to get bigger.

sferic land a debut album of thizzing and blown-out ambient trap x dub techno vapours from XTCLVR.

Produced under trying circumstances, Ukraine’s XTCLVR wrests an escapist sense of hazed beauty on a compelling maiden voyage for bleary-eyed specialists sferic, written and recorded during long nights under curfew and occasional shelling. Vocals are there, but mostly unintelligible, disrupted by a persistent offbeat churn and fragmentary instability, a paradoxically lush but anxious sound that reflects broader butterfly effects of war and its ripples of socio-economic fuckery on one level, and simply a trippy soundtrack to the afters on another.

Ten smudged shots unfurl across a 3D stereo space in gyring and shearing motion, cryptically shielding and scrambling a message meant to be deciphered by your sixth senses. A vocoder is diffused in aerosolised designs on the rugged lean of ‘Perspective’, setting up a chain reaction that buckles to more fraught feels on ‘Allergen’ and the ruptured raptures of a ‘Storm Shadow’ recalling Nazar’s recent sound design spheres for Hyperdub.

BSW948 lends nervous bars laced into the warped matrix of ’Night Shift Cut’, and OB3TH perfuses the iridescent dub techno of ‘The Wise Mystical Tree’, whilst Indy lends to the ambient drill of ‘Acid Flavour’, and closer ‘Dead Smoke’ perhaps best betrays, even if metaphorically, a feeling of psychic distress in its dank, submerged mire.

An album for sleeping and waking, walking and driving, hunting and fishing, for loitering outside a roadhouse on the haunted tundra. Okay in elevators, not great for dinner. On Caveman Wakes Up, Friendship’s new album and second for Merge Records, the band’s historically capacious definition of country music grows wider still. Shambolic guitars are offset by flute pads, bleary poetry is set against a Motown rhythm section, a song about Jerry Garcia and First Lady Betty Ford fades out with a drum solo, like if Talk Talk came from a dingy Philadelphia basement and was fronted by James Tate. Songwriter Dan Wriggins’ ragged baritone cuts through eleven murky, swirling country-rock songs with profound lyrical substance and sincerity. Like an alarm clock incorporated into the edge of a dream, Caveman Wakes Up belongs equally to the conscious and subconscious mind, fraught with background, steeped in reference and experimentation, delivered casually and as a dire warning, dedicated, above all, to music’s creative soul. Over the years, dedication has paid off. Friendship has become a kind of reverse supergroup,
wherein the band itself and each individual member are located centrally in an increasingly prominent scene of young folk and country musicians and songwriters. Drummer Michael Cormier O’Leary leads the instrumental collective Hour and, along with bassist Jon Samuels, runs Dear Life Records, home to friends and peers who count Friendship as a major influence including MJ Lenderman, Florry, and Fust. (Samuels also plays lead guitar in MJ Lenderman and the Wind). Guitarist Peter Gill’s band 2nd Grade records prolifically. Wriggins began writing the songs of Caveman Wakes Up on a downtuned classical guitar of Lenderman’s and finished on a barely tuned piano in an apartment he shared with Sadurn’s G DeGroot.
In the summer of 2023, Wriggins had just left the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, where his love for poetry and mistrust for the academic poetry world grew in tandem. A relationship fell apart, and Wriggins crashed for several weeks at Lenderman and Wednesday’s Karly Hartzman’s home in North Carolina, where he recorded the first demos of “Resident Evil,” “All Over the World,” and “Love Vape.” Wriggins returned to Philadelphia, and the band got to work on new ideas, finally tracking the album in five days with engineer Jeff Ziegler (Mary Lattimore, War on Drugs). Wriggins recorded vocals with Love the Stranger engineer Bradford Kreiger, and organ, violin (Jason Calhoun), and flute (Adelyn Strei) were recorded by Lucas Knapp in a West Philadelphia church.

Crafted from solo recordings of 42 top-notch improviser musicians mostly drawn from Berlin’s multi-layered experimental scene, the monumental Phantom Orchestra project by Raed Yassin is finally getting released on Morphine Records. More than 1000 minutes of source material, recorded at the Morphine Raum during the fall of 2021, is distilled into a cogent work marked by a dazzling display of editing and blending, and packed into a double LP containing 7 “movements” of the Phantom Orchestra composition.

Crafted from solo recordings of 42 top-notch improviser musicians mostly drawn from Berlin’s multi-layered experimental scene, the monumental Phantom Orchestra project by Raed Yassin is finally getting released on Morphine Records. More than 1000 minutes of source material, recorded at the Morphine Raum during the fall of 2021, is distilled into a cogent work marked by a dazzling display of editing and blending, and packed into a double LP containing 7 “movements” of the Phantom Orchestra composition.

The Lebanese composer, musician and visual artist Raed Yassin has built a career straddling artistic mediums and communities, his devotion to improvisation, his connection to experimental electronic music, and his interest in the archive distinguishing a progressive impulse rooted in historic exploration. In 2020 Morphine Records released his wildly ambitious Live in Sharjah, made by a kaleidoscopic expansion of Praed, his duo with clarinetist Paed Conca. He resumes his interest in large-scale projects with Phantom Orchestra, conceived during the pandemic when most European improvisers were forced to redirect their energies into solo work,

Each set of the Phantom Orchestra’s solos was cut on a Dubplate, ready to be performed on 12 turntables routed to a six-channel setup, to create a unified and breathtaking composition from the spontaneous material. The resulting material was then edited and prepared to be cut on a Double LP format, marshalling a staggering variety of improvised footage into an air-tight collage that locates abstract consonance, stunning sonic rhymes, and unusual harmonies without shutting out the sort of exhilarating collisions and fraught tensions inherent in collaborative improvisations. With this final stage of the composition, Yassin offers a vibrant testimony to the diversity of Berlin’s community of improvisers, to say nothing of his own refined artistic sensibility in achieving such a remarkable feat of blending so many contrasting voices into a truly unified piece of music. “For me it's about how to learn to be a community again,” he says. “And how to live in a world together again, which is a very difficult question for me.”

“This Album was published with the support of the Arab Fund for Arts and Culture – AFAC”

Emergent polymath Brother Aten makes his first outing on Bruk with an icy slice of system-ready
minimalism, guided by the cooly detached voice of Ze R.
Taking cues from cult sci-fi and early 80s no wave, Fragmented Dystopia is a crystal clear
statement trimmed of all unnecessary baggage. The title spells out the mood — Aten's
soundscapes are stark and synthetic machine mantras punched out on outboard instruments
navigating gritty, futuristic zones.
On 'Unavailable' steadily humming drones shape the space in which Ze R. hovers, initially
delivering a deadpan denial before their humanity sneaks in as the track snakes through an
intricate lattice of crisp digital percussion. Short and razor-sharp two-parter 'Fragmented Dystopia'
finds an even sparser corner to occupy within Aten's subtly cyberpunk vision, where Ze R.'s
scattered words cut a measured figure delivered at acute angles before breaking into wilder forms
at the end of Part 2.

Originally from Brooklyn and now based in Berlin, Brother Aten has been weaving a fascinating
tapestry of audio and visual work as MAF. His artwork examines the fraught relationship between
technology and society. Ze R. explores dimensions of sexuality, subjectivity and individualism
through writing, performance and community organisation.

Yellow & Black Vinyl. "The first three are innocent in a way, because we didn't have an audience when we were making them," Oberst says. "But from Lifted on, I was definitely aware of an audience. Lifted was well-received right away, and then everything happened with Wide Awake and Digital Ash." Those two albums came out simultaneously. And their lead singles - "Take It Easy (Love Nothing)," from the austere, remote Digital Ash, and "Lua," from the warm, folky Wide Awake - debuted in the top two slots on the Billboard Hot 100. "First Day of My Life," also from Wide Awake, would later be voted the Number One love song of all time by NPR Music's reader's poll.Bright Eyes had officially broken through. It was a heady, exciting time, but also fraught and tense, both because of the band's careening new fame, and because of the state of the world. When Bright Eyes made their Tonight Show debut in 2006, they chose to perform none of their shiny new hits, instead delivering a searing, harrowing rendition of their caustic anti-Bush anthem, "When The President Talks To God."These days, Oberst is still amusing himself by messing with the extremes Bright Eyes baked into this era's releases, extremes that reflected the polar, with-us-or-against-us, fractious feel of the times. The reworked Digital Ash tracks, originally so clean and elegant, are, on the companion EP, full of "harmonica and mandolins - folky vibes," Oberst says. While the analogue sweetness of the Wide Awake songs have been put through a detached nihilism filter.

The Intima led a chameleon-like existence from 1999 to 2004, confounding critics who struggled to describe their distinctive sound while sharing stages with everyone from The Rapture to The Mekons. Hailing from Olympia and Portland, the postpunk quartet utilized sharp rhythms, prescient lyrics, and a collaborative compositional approach to conjure forth a sound that manages to be explosive yet detailed, experimental yet propulsive and melodic. Featuring a classically-trained violinist, custom-tuned guitars that careen at odd angles, and an imaginative and powerful rhythm section, the band explored the intersection of art-punk and agitpop with a spirit and tenor uniquely their own. In 2017, the Polish website More Noise summed up their sound by saying that "the first association that comes to mind is The Ex and the Dutch avant punk scene of the 1980s, but fans of the bands Dirty Three, Godspeed You Black Emperor and Unwound may also be intrigued."The group toured the States extensively during the 4+ years that they were active, including one grueling six-week tour undertaken just after 9/11 and another one in 2003 during which the US began bombing Iraq. The group's live sets are remembered for their combination of unbridled intensity and tightly-coiled musicianship, as well as their chaos potential, whether that chaos was performing in the middle of an illegal street party or causing a PA to burst into flames immediately preceding a headlining set by Deerhoof. A memorable show in DC with Q And Not U was mentioned by Dischord group Black Eyes in their Speaking In Tongues booklet last year, with Hugh McElroy describing the Intima as "a really aggressively-beautiful and poetic punk band with a violin where a guitar normally would be...pushing genre barriers in a way that helped me see a vision of how we might want to do that ourselves."Peril and Panic was recorded in Olympia over eight months in 2002 and was released in 2003 on LP (Zum/Collective Jyrk) and CD (Slowdance). In 2022, in the midst of the pandemic, the group commissioned Jason Powers to remix the original tracks from the ground up, which turned into an 18-month endeavor that included some compositional edits, significant work to improve the sound of the drums, and the uncovering of unreleased songs. Today, a fully remixed and remastered Peril and Panic is finally being released into the wild sounding much closer to how it was originally meant to be heard. Sounding more relevant than ever, it seems increasingly clear that the ideas and feelings that informed both band and album are no longer so "radical" - if anything, they've become the zeitgeist of today, as a confluence of global crises points to a fraught future long predicted.

New York’s Sarah Kinsley is fascinated by creating imaginary worlds and alternate realities. We all need an escape. To that end, Sarah’s first album is called Escaper, and to which world you choose to escape is ultimately your own decision. This is vibrant, bold, beautiful music that confronts death and loss, the decimation of old friendships, romantic love’s shortcomings compared to the love shared with close friends, and fraught relationships that flourished and then fizzled. It sounds hugely confident, a real body of work. “A huge way of how I get through life and pain and horrible experiences is through the creation of these spaces where you can become someone else as a distraction—as a means to solving grief,” Sarah says. She works through it all as if the centerpiece of an epic poem, with high drama melodies and huge sweeping choruses.

DJ Support: Gilles Peterson (BBC Radio 6 Music), Tom Ravenscroft/Deb Grant – New Music Fix (BBC Radio 6 Music), Huey Morgan (BBC Radio 6 Music)

Cut from material recorded in April 2021 at Fish Factory studios in London, the album’s title Abbreviations nods to the editing and post-production processes that trimmed the original recordings into seven succinct and intricate tracks. Making space for collaborators Ernesto Marichales (percussion), Miryam Solomon (vocals) and Valeria Pozzo (Violin, viola), it builds on the critically-acclaimed success of Sound & Reason (supported by Gilles Peterson and Mary Anne Hobbs) to bring out different shades of the group’s shape-shifting sound.

‘Elevator Company’ condenses twenty-minutes of jamming around Tal Janes’ hypnotic guitar line into a low-lit lounge groove that subverts the tropes of elevator music associated with some forms of easy listening jazz. Featuring Solomon’s wordless vocals, the piece blurs the lines between ambient and improvised music, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere reminiscent of classic RnB recordings.

On a different tip, ‘The Spin’ is a trance-like freak-out drawing on the final reserves of energy at the tail end of two days of solid recording. Reflecting guitarist Janes’ idea that "music really starts happening after a while, once you feel like you have nothing left to offer," the hypnotic rhythm section sets the tone for an fraught and frazzled guitar solo that seems to dissolve the very edges of time and space in the process.

An album that speaks to Qwalia’s endless capacity for self-renewal and uninhibited expression, Abbreviations takes its cue from the group’s name to communicate something ineffable about the nature of music, rhythm and sound that must be experienced to be truly understood.

Felix Machtelinckx is a singer, composer, producer and lyricist from Belgium. Featuring an array of film scores, dance soundtracks, pop, folk and electronic music, Felix's music resonates with a familiar, almost nostalgic patina, applied with a distinctly crooked touch. Through artistic collaboration, coaching and production, Felix has cut a dash in the pop and indie cult scenes of Belgium, especially with his band Tin Fingers, who are feted as one of the most promising indie acts of the moment. Night Scenes, Felix’s solo debut is, in contrast to his other work, more humble and less traditional, roughly hewn from a series of ambient soundscapes, earthy textures and playful structures. Felix’s voice, normally the flagship of his music, becomes more of a distant memory, an indistinct emotion feathered throughout the music. Many lyrics are improvised, sometimes unintelligible, conjuring haunted, uncertain undertones. Similarly, the album is innately peripatetic to the core, being created, written and recorded in Lithuania, Belgium, France, mastered in the US, and finally released in the UK. In the first instance, some of the tracks were created for the contemporary dance piece Doggy Rugburn by Brandon Lagaert of Kaiho and Peeping Tom; others were created enigmatically for a film that never surfaced; while the remainder are the product of more personal work and research. As Felix began to collect and review these disparate parts, the concept of a unified album began to evolve. With 'night' featuring as a suitably dark leitmotif, or backdrop to a series of emotionally fraught 'scenes', each track depicts a form of trauma, locked within the confines of the mind. Felix observes: "Imagine yourself in a dusty old room unable to sleep. Emotions, fears and other demons haunt your mind. This in-between state makes your mind reach for other worlds. This is Night Scenes." For the most part, Night Scenes was created using a variety of old, and rare, analogue equipment. With almost no digital editing, the record was primarily mixed through a vintage cassette desk, giving it a nostalgic character with a noisy undertone. Felix fully embraced the synergy of his emotional themes and retrograde gear, enthusing: "A lot of textures were created on an old Soviet synthesizer that causes a blackout when you hit the lowest note on the keyboard. The dysfunctionality of the synths was often used to create rhythm and texture." This unnerving ability Night Scenes has to comfort and confound the listener is summed up by Jordan Hudson, House Of Media producer, and music podcaster, when he concludes: "Some songs on the album have this sort of fleeting comfort and tonality, which dissolves into a subtle rhythmic/structural or modulated disarray the moment I settle into them - this really fits with my experience of the night .. This record is a winner, and will be something I'll listen to a lot from here on

The oblique and annihilating transmissions emanating from the workshop of Polar Inertia have been issued intently and surely over the last decade and more. Environment Control grants access to the biggest consignment to date, with eight tracks of mesmeric play that are fraught with clinical impulsiveness and astringent rushes.

Opening with a didactic panegyric to transmutation, Polar Inertia swiftly counter our recoil with an ominous display of pressure on 'Smothering Dreams'. The intensity is sustained—as if to suggest that there's now no way back—until the menace relents on 'Artic Horizon', its shimmering gravitational pull amounting to an idealism after the unease that delivered us here.

From the Dolls-meets-the-devil opening title track to the desperate Sister Lovers-adjacent finale "The Findings," The Interrogator is thirteen vibrant, crackling, scary and hilarious songs which taken together represent nothing less than a thorough and thrilling moral inventory of our decadent and depraved times. Following up and doubling down on the themes of last year's lionized cult favorite For Executive Meeting, Elizabeth Nelson has authored an album as politically potent and pointedly hilarious as antecedents like The Mekons' Rock 'n' Roll and Neil Young's on On the Beach and wed it to the sound of ZZ Top's Eliminator. As writers like Rob Sheffield and Robert Christgau have known for years Elizbeth Nelson has been one of our very best songwriters for going on a decade. On the charged anthem "Bad Day for the Group Chat" she reassesses the current state of affairs: "I have bested all my peers." “Elizabeth Nelson showcases the simultaneously fraught and giddy frequency of our weird, wired world. The Paranoid Style may be the bearer of bad news, but at least the band bears it smashingly.” NPR // “You’ll forgive them for being critic’s darlings because they’re also the goddamn life of the party.” SPIN // Features performances by Peter Holsapple of The dB’s, Continental Drifters & REM through out. Elizabeth Nelson writes for the Oxford American, N.Y. Times, Pitchfork, The Ringer and more. She has over 15,000 followers on Twitter. A

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

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

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

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

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

The music of Justin Walter veers between nebulous and numinous, coaxed from the translucent tonalities of his signature instrument, the EVI (Electronic Valve Instrument).
Destroyer, his latest, and third for Kranky, marks his most multifaceted work yet. Inspired by minimalistic urges (evading grandiosity, condensing scope, embracing spatial restraint) tempered with the drama of triptychs (becoming, destruction, aftermath), the album’s 11 tracks thread a keening suite of aching, opaque beauty, traced in absence and breath.
First begun in the no man’s land summer of 2020, Walter gradually amassed nearly two hours of demos, drafts, and ideas, then steadily whittled them to their essence. Destroyer enlists the sounds of a recently restored pump organ, adding pulses and quaking texture, but otherwise the album is a shimmering showcase of the EVI: miasmic, melodic, intuitive, infinite. It’s music of fraught devotion and uneasy peace, questing yet languorous, forever rapt and untethered.

Dreams are made and displaced on Mark Fell & Rian Treanor’s oneiric electro-acoustic inception 'Last Exit', borne from long days in the family garden, and assembled into a mesmerising masterpiece of minimalist modal rhythm and atmospheric exploration, into rapt smallsound detailing in breathtaking form. It’s a bit like listening to Virginia Astley’s ‘From Gardens Where We Feel Secure’, with washes of Autechre seeping into the mix from outside.

‘Last Exit…’ originally appeared in a different form as a cassette release for our Documenting Sound series in 2021, and was edited this year by Mark and Rian for this new expanded and altered edition, mastered by Rashad Becker. It renders a painterly,psychedelic, and diaristic depiction of sublime atmospheric tension, occasionally ruptured by their typical, asymmetric rhythm impulses in a form that rudely transcends their respective aesthetics. Across four parts, they kern, juxtapose and diffract synthesised percussion and field recordings into polymetric arrangements riddled with timbral nuance of a highly unpredictable nature.

While patently inflected with nods to Indonesian gamelan, Ugandan folk, Indian Carnatic classical, Morton Feldman-esque minimalism, free jazz improvisation and a sort of rhythmic cubism that speaks to their mutual, voracious listening habits and tastes, the results are arguably without direct compare. Attentive listeners will recognise, however, that ‘Last Exit’ effortlessly transcends their respective styles, achieving a new high watermark of imaginary future-hyperfolk expressed in a sort of personalised but highly relatable meta-musical language.

Seriously, they’re working beyond known conventions here; opening to a sublime frisson of Feldman-esque keys, birdsong and distant car engines, and closing to a combo of just-intoned drone and wafts of distant ballroom music. The 80 minutes in between feel like returning to a dream, with flashes of FM strings dabbed to sloshing rhythms and domestic detritus, tilting into a nervously tentative tension ruptured with abstract dance dynamism and angular free jazz ballistics.

The rejigged recordings also reflect the fidelity of memory recall, expressing an altered perspective on their time spent in the multigenerational family’s Rotherham garden during spring/summer 2020, replete with their mum/grandmother on piano and overheard singing and in convo, but now fraught with a more melancholic, distempered quality that makes for a genuinely unforgettable listening experience. A long-form isolationist fantasy, consider it crucial listening if yr into Robert Ashley's 'Automatic Writing', Graham Lambkin, Autechre or Nuno Canavarro.

It’s been nearly eight years since the last Mondo Drag album came out. In that time, the Bay Area psych-prog band toured the US and Europe, performed at major festivals and—once again—reformed their rhythm section. But in the context of the band’s nearly two-decade existence, this period may have been the most fraught. Vocalist and keyboardist John Gamiño lost friends and family members. Meanwhile, humanity suffered the throes of a global pandemic. “It was a dark chapter,” he recalls. “I was going through a lot of stuff personally—there’s been a lot of death, loss of family members, and grief. Plus, the band was inactive. It felt like time was slipping away from me. I felt like I was wasting my opportunities. I felt like I wasn’t participating in my story as much as I could have.” This feeling of time slipping away is the prevailing theme on Mondo Drag’s new album, Through the Hourglass. “For me, Through the Hourglass really encompasses the quarantine/pandemic years,” Gamiño says. “But in a way that includes a couple of years before that for us, because the band was stagnant during that time. Living with that was really impactful on our daily lives. So, the album is reflective. It’s looking at time—past, present, future.” Luckily, Mondo Drag emerged from this dour period reborn. Freshly energized by bassist Conor Riley (formerly of San Diego psych squad Astra, currently of Birth), who joined in 2018, and drummer Jimmy Perez, who joined in 2022, Gamiño and guitarists Jake Sheley and Nolan Girard have triumphed over the seemingly inexorable pull of time’s passage. “Astra was the one contemporary band that we felt was on the same tip as us,” Gamiño says. “We saw the similarities and felt the same vibe. Conor moved to San Francisco in 2018 and heard we were looking for a bassist, so we got in touch. For us, it was like, ‘The synth player from Astra wants to play bass for us?’ We couldn’t think of anybody more perfect.” Perez, meanwhile, brings deep psych-prog knowledge and impeccable skill. “He’s an amazing drummer, and he allowed us to do what we’ve been trying to do,” Gamiño says. “Before he came along, it was like, ‘Where are the drummers who like psych and prog and can play dynamically?’ We ended up trying out metal drummers, but they couldn’t swing. Jimmy was the final piece of the puzzle.” The result is a dazzling and often plaintive rumination on the hours, days, and years—not to mention experiences—that comprise a lifetime. Two-part opener “Burning Daylight” smolders with melancholy, offering a whirl of multi-colored and hallucinatory imagery. “It’s about the California wildfires and a feeling of helplessness,” Gamiño explains. “There’s a juxtaposition between the dark lyricism and upbeat music which is meant to imply a sort of delusional state—and choosing our own delusion to overcome the crushing despair of reality.” Eleven-minute centerpiece “Passages” is a sprawling prog-rock adventure, festooned with lofty guitar melodies, sweeping organ flourishes and a delicately finger-picked outro. But the heaviest song, thematically speaking, might be the mournful and hypnotic “Death in Spring,” which borrows its title from the like-named Catalan novel. “In the novel, people are placed inside opened trees and their mouths filled with cement before they die to prevent their souls from escaping,” Gamiño explains. “The song is about three people I knew who lost their lives to gun violence, addiction, and mental health. It’s my way of cementing their souls in song form.” Mondo Drag fans might be surprised by this blend of hard reality with literary surrealism, but it’s a perfect example of how the last several years have impacted Mondo Drag—and Gamiño in particular. “On all of our previous albums, the lyrical content is more psychedelic and out there,” he acknowledges. “This is the most personal stuff I’ve ever done, so I’m definitely feeling vulnerable on this one.” The title Through the Hourglass comes from the opening of the long-running soap opera Days of Our Lives. It’s less inspired by a predilection for daytime TV than Gamiño’s connection with his late mother, who passed during the time since the last album. “I used to watch Days of Our Lives with her everyday growing up,” he explains. “The song is kind of a reinterpretation of the theme song, although it’s different enough that probably no one will catch it. Now that I’m getting older, I like to put these little Easter eggs in the songs for myself and for archival purposes—for memories.” Through the Hourglass was tracked at El Studio in San Francisco, with an additional ten days of recording at the band’s rehearsal space, which doubles as a hybrid analog-digital recording studio. The album was engineered and mixed by Phil Becker, drummer of space-punk mainstays Pins Of Light. “We’re still here,” Gamiño says. “We’ve been in the studio working on our craft and honing our skills. Now we’re re-emerging for the next stage of our life cycle.”

Strawberries ripen in the spring. Or so they used to, in a more reliable world, one that seems to be rapidly receding in our collective rearview mirror. Presently, “spring” is a troubled concept — fraught with anxiety. Our seasons, if they are seasons at all, are paradoxical. Crops fail, or they ripen prematurely, all at once, and into a burst of rot. Impossibly, somehow, the supermarket shelves stay stocked (mostly, for now at least), and there are buckets of strawberries on every corner. But, of course, their nature is suspect. And they don’t taste like they used to. Or maybe that’s just ruinous nostalgia. But somewhere along the way we certainly lost something. Everybody knows.

Strawberry Season (Leaving Records, November 9 2022) responds tenderly to this sorry state of affairs, not with false comfort — nor escapism. Rather, the album conveys, often wordlessly, that there remains an abundance of sweetness amidst our increasing unease. While much of twentieth century American popular and folk music may have dwelt on the beauty and plenitude of the prairie, More Eaze applies a similar Romantic focus to the small bursts of fecundity that now hide in plain sight. Blending found sound, generative music, a knack for elegant, classically-informed melodic arrangement, and a sort of Liz-Fraser-by-way-of-hyperpop approach to vocals, Strawberry Season offers unique solace — providing an occasion for the kind of deep listening that our overstimulated and undernourished spirits require if there is to be any hope at all (and of course there must be hope).

More Eaze (serving as composer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, producer, and sound artist) guides us incrementally to this locus of attentiveness. Strawberry Season begins with the softly sweeping gentle pets. Early intimations of Velvet Underground give way, indeed, to a string arrangement that John Cale might have saved for Paris 1919. The second track, Suped, features a kaleidoscopic swirl of grocery checkout scanners that eventually coalesce and release with the subtle strumming of a harp. On known, in the midst of a nearly elegiac outflow of feeling, a shower starts to run. Someone steps inside, pulling the curtain back, sending the plastic rings clattering. Moments later, the unmistakable sound of the showerer blowing their nose — an inclusion that is at once light-hearted and jarringly, movingly intimate.

Strawberry Season’s second to last song, low resolution at santikos, serves as a sustained meditation on all that has come before it. Building slowly throughout its nine minutes, teetering, at times, on the edge of danceability, it dissipates suddenly, and Strawberry Season concludes with the rustling of clothes, snippets of distant conversation, creaking floorboards, an exhale and a sniff. There is a feeling of having arrived, of temporary reprieve in the face of uncertainty. A hint of a season yet to come, or one that is perhaps only now accessible in dreams.

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape_at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire's new album Every Acre grapples with those themes_themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming_claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage_permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In "New View," McEntire cites poets "Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds"_fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire's voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: "Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me_I'll take more of you." Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, "Shadows" develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss_reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how "to make room." How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, "Rows of Clover" is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a "steadfast hound." The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers-esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being "down on your knees, clawing at the garden"_the only explicit mention of a person in the song. "It ain't the easy kind of healing," sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing ta;kes time, time takes time_truths that linger painfully. "Dovetail" is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire's gentle, trembling vibrato_harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner_calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions_such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia_that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre ex - plores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life_both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

Orange Viny

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape_at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire's new album Every Acre grapples with those themes_themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming_claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage_permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In "New View," McEntire cites poets "Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds"_fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire's voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: "Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me_I'll take more of you." Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, "Shadows" develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss_reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how "to make room." How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, "Rows of Clover" is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a "steadfast hound." The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers-esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being "down on your knees, clawing at the garden"_the only explicit mention of a person in the song. "It ain't the easy kind of healing," sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing ta;kes time, time takes time_truths that linger painfully. "Dovetail" is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire's gentle, trembling vibrato_harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner_calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions_such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia_that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre ex - plores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life_both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire’s new album Every Acre grapples with those themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In “New View,” McEntire cites poets “Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds” fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire’s voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: “Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me I’ll take more of you.” Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, “Shadows” develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how “to make room.” How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, “Rows of Clover” is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a “steadfast hound.” The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers–esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being “down on your knees, clawing at the garden” the only explicit mention of a person in the song. “It ain’t the easy kind of healing,” sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing takes time, time takes time truths that linger painfully. “Dovetail” is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire’s gentle, trembling vibrato harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre explores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

Jon K and Elle Andrews’ MAL imprint returns with a new LP from one of the London experimental underground's best kept secrets, Rory Salter aka Malvern Brume. His music is rare, eccentric and mysterious - somewhere between Coil's bleak ritual magick and the BBC Radiophonic Workshop's most experimental, minimal fringes. 

Malvern Brume operates just beneath the radar, occasionally turning up at Café OTO lineups and on a smattering of releases for Low Company, Alter, Infant Tree and Kasual Plastik - but he’s never one to shout too loudly about his work. ‘Body Traffic’ is his most interesting set to date, laying bare a process melting found sounds, field recordings and spoken word into throbbing, pulsing rhythms. It’s an evocation of a fraught mindset during the early weeks of lockdown in 2020; sequestered in his flat next to a trainline, the infrasonic - and more audible - rumbles of rolling stock and a nagging sense of dread infecting his ambiguously discomfiting recordings.

Operating in a headspace that values world-building and vivid, visual emotionality, Salter’s careful melodies are familiar - the distant, weeping melancholia of 1970s British TV hangs off the recordings like net curtains, and his atmosphere loops into experiments that weave through bare traces of industrial music, blank-faced electro pop, and hedonistic Brummie techno, all reduced to a cinder. 

The mood is set on the bellyaching resonance and crawling walls of the title tune, while 'Through Beaked Fog Horns' is drowned beneath morning mists: lopsided synth drones choke and drift, percussion mutates into inebriated bubbles, and tape-f*cked environmental whirrs create an atmosphere that’s hard to decipher in one take. 

‘Moss Spines Clenched’ follows cryptic stains on peeling flocking, and the icy creep of ‘Tense Branches Waver’ quivers beyond a cracked windowpane. The artist’s voice appears from beneath a cardboard box fort in the imaginary world of ‘Cornered Into Sleat’ as a distant drum beats out a marching thud and traffic squeals are sculpted into chirpy whistles, before ‘Bri Dun’ resolves the eerie tension in an OOBE-like ascent above the dado-rail and across the tracks, watching himself fade into a dissociative bliss.

"All chatter falls quiet…” Salter murmurs thru saturation and white noise. It’s a sound that’s gonna stick with us for a while.

Clear Vinyl

Originally released in 2020 on cassette and digitally. more eaze is the nom de plume of Austin, TX mainstay m.maurice, a roving experimentalist who’s explored an astoundingly diverse range of sounds, from drone and computer music to avant-pop and beyond. claire rousay is a San Antonio, TX-based percussionist/composer/sound artist who uses physical objects and their potential sounds as a way to explore queerness, human physicality, and self perception. Together—through a suite of deeply personal aural collages—two of Texas’ most vital and vibrant sonic searchers beg the eternal question: If I Don't Let Myself Be Happy Now Then When?

Although only their debut album together, If I Don’t Let Myself… reveals a profound and fruitful relationship between m and claire. But the symphonic symbiosis goes even deeper still. Outside of musical breakthroughs, the pair helped each other conquer intensely personal changes, with m and claire transitioning and coming out as non-binary and trans, respectively.

As m explains, “to me this record is very much about this process of becoming—trying to reach something and getting there but sometimes not being quite where you want to be but at least getting closer. It’s about feeling alternately empowered and insecure socially as you transition and trying to cope with these conflicting emotions.”

Musically, the album showcases startlingly sincere sets of serrated but sedative situational music. A-side epic Drunk is a sprawling but taut rove of aural duality. Passages of exquisite elegance subtly clash with shimmering shards of sound. Pre-op is a poised and pensive piece of solemn reflection, harrowingly honest and delivered with clarity and composure, while Post-op closes out the set in a wholly uplifting and optimistic flair.

If I Don't Let Myself Be Happy Now Then When? is ultimately about coping during the respective transitioning phase in both of their lives, obliquely blissful and fraught with freedom.

"Music gives us the illusion that time is not time, but space. It is then that the music transforms from process to object, which I find a very interesting thought; a materialisation of the sound process. Sound is matter." - Noémi Büchi

Noémi Büchi's debut album 'Matter' captures the tension between growth and decay, consonance and dissonance, mirroring Büchi's own catharsis through music. Her most personal material to date, 'Matter' is an opus of refined, sculpted beauty, one that aims to blur the distinction between ephemerality and physicality. Inspired by late romantic classical music and early 20th century contemporary music, 'Matter' is driven by the compositional methodologies of Igor Stravinsky, Alexander Skrjabin, Gustav Mahler and György Ligeti to modern sound forms, adapting and expanding upon their ideas in an awe-inspiring exploration of cutting-edge potency and tactility.

Büchi structures the electronic works that constitute 'Matter' in movements, stratifying myriad instrumental parts like the constituent sections of an orchestra. During her work on the album, Büchi engaged in extensive research, obsessively studying specific chords and progressions, and searching for transcendent intonations with resonant properties; complexions of sound with the ability to connect with the listener's body. Transforming our inner worlds into zones of suspension and levitation, Büchi exposes the listener to intoxicating slipstreams of sound. Prominent voices ascend, tectonic disturbances threaten the foundations, perception and sensation becomes subject to elemental countercurrents and inversions. 'Matter' illustrates the fraught pursuit of momentary equilibrium, and makes the fragility of euphoria tangible.

Composer & sound artist Noémi Büchi creates electronic, symphonic maximalism. Her music is defined by delicate electronic-orchestral forms and textural rhythms. She strives for a combination of harmonic and dissonant sonorities, to evoke both intellectual and emotional euphoria. Büchi has appeared on the Light of Other Days and Visible Dinner labels, and is now an affiliate of -OUS, releasing 'Hyle' her debut EP on the label in spring 2022. As well as her solo output, Noémi Büchi is currently working with Feldermelder on their collaborative project Musique Infinie. Their debut album will also be released via -OUS in the near future.

The second album from Brisbane-Meanjin indie-folk five-piece Full Power
Happy Hour builds on the immense promise of their 2020 self-titled
debut, adding a gorgeous tinge of alt-country elegance to their inherent
feel-good jangle-pop foundations
This musical bed - assembled collaboratively allowing the band's true spirit to
shine through - proves the perfect foil for frontperson Alex Campbell's
compellingly personal lyrics documenting a tumultuous period in their life, an at
times fraught journey recast into beautiful, eloquent art. The 10 songs veer from
bright, upbeat toe- tappers to plaintive, introspective ballads, but flow together
superbly due to the group's underlying camaraderie and fast- blossoming
chemistry. At times reminiscent of forebears like The Go- Betweens and The
Clean, with flourishes of Lucinda Williams and contemporaries like Big Thief and
The Weather Station, Bit Of Brightness is 100% Full Power Happy Hour and one
utterly beguiling aural experience.

The second album from Brisbane-Meanjin indie-folk five-piece Full Power
Happy Hour builds on the immense promise of their 2020 self-titled
debut, adding a gorgeous tinge of alt-country elegance to their inherent
feel-good jangle-pop foundations
This musical bed - assembled collaboratively allowing the band's true spirit to
shine through - proves the perfect foil for frontperson Alex Campbell's
compellingly personal lyrics documenting a tumultuous period in their life, an at
times fraught journey recast into beautiful, eloquent art. The 10 songs veer from
bright, upbeat toe- tappers to plaintive, introspective ballads, but flow together
superbly due to the group's underlying camaraderie and fast- blossoming
chemistry. At times reminiscent of forebears like The Go- Betweens and The
Clean, with flourishes of Lucinda Williams and contemporaries like Big Thief and
The Weather Station, Bit Of Brightness is 100% Full Power Happy Hour and one
utterly beguiling aural experience.

Alex G - the Philadelphia singer, songwriter, and producer Alex
Giannascoli - releases his highly anticipated ninth studio album,
‘God Save The Animals’, on Domino.
 ‘God’ figures in the album’s title and multiple of its thirteen
tracks, not as a concrete religious entity but as a sign for a
generalized sense of faith (in something, anything) that fortifies
Giannascoli, or the characters he voices, amid the songs’ often
fraught situations.
 Filtering his experiences through fact and fiction, Giannascoli
also opened up the songs through a more practical method:
collaboration. ‘God Save The Animals’ features several
individual contributions from his bandmates (guitarist Samuel
Acchione, drummer Tom Kelly, and bassist John Heywood) or
frequent collaborator Molly Germer on strings and / or vocals.
 CD in printed inner wallet and spined capacity outer wallet with
8-page folded poster insert.
 LP in gatefold outer sleeve with special gold foil print and white
polylined inner sleeve with digital download card.
 C45 audio cassette in coloured shell and standard clear plastic
outer case with cassette inlay (J-card with panels) and digital
download card.
 UK headline tour in 2023.

Alex G - the Philadelphia singer, songwriter, and producer Alex
Giannascoli - releases his highly anticipated ninth studio album,
‘God Save The Animals’, on Domino.
 ‘God’ figures in the album’s title and multiple of its thirteen
tracks, not as a concrete religious entity but as a sign for a
generalized sense of faith (in something, anything) that fortifies
Giannascoli, or the characters he voices, amid the songs’ often
fraught situations.
 Filtering his experiences through fact and fiction, Giannascoli
also opened up the songs through a more practical method:
collaboration. ‘God Save The Animals’ features several
individual contributions from his bandmates (guitarist Samuel
Acchione, drummer Tom Kelly, and bassist John Heywood) or
frequent collaborator Molly Germer on strings and / or vocals.
 CD in printed inner wallet and spined capacity outer wallet with
8-page folded poster insert.
 LP in gatefold outer sleeve with special gold foil print and white
polylined inner sleeve with digital download card.
 C45 audio cassette in coloured shell and standard clear plastic
outer case with cassette inlay (J-card with panels) and digital
download card.
 UK headline tour in 2023.

‘Complex and dangerously catchy, lyrically sophisticated and provocative, noisy and somehow serene… Yankee Hotel Foxtrot… is simply a masterpiece.’ – Pitchfork, 10/10, April 2002

‘The looped chaos and plangent melodies... effectively heralded the birth of a new band, as Jeff Tweedy overhauled his compositional modus operandi. So tender was the emotional core of songs like ‘Jesus, Etc.’ that the record became wrapped up in America’s post-9/11 cultural discourse... Yankee Hotel Foxtrot embedded Wilco’s great American songwriter status.’
– Mojo

‘It's as if the Flying Burrito Brothers suddenly decided to cover Pavement songs. There is a gentle, rootsy beauty here that Wilco has buried in a box of vulnerability and covered with a handful of dirt.’ – New York Times

‘Born out of turmoil, Wilco’s fourth album was a stone-cold classic.’ – Uncut

Nonesuch releases seven special editions of Wilco’s landmark 2002 album Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. The now-classic record has been remastered and will be available as part of each set. The Super Deluxe version comprises eleven vinyl LPs and one CD – including demos, drafts, and instrumentals, charting the making of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – plus a live 2002 concert recording and a September 2001 radio performance and interview. That box set includes eighty-two previously unreleased music tracks as well as a new book featuring an interview with singer/songwriter/guitarist Jeff Tweedy, drummer Glenn Kotche, and Jim O’Rourke, who mixed the acclaimed 2002 album; an in-depth essay by journalist/author Bob Mehr; and previously unseen photos of the band making the album in their Chicago studio, The Loft. For the Yankee Hotel Foxtrot recording, Wilco was Jeff Tweedy, John Stirratt, Leroy Bach, Glenn Kotche, and Jay Bennett with Craig Christiansen, Ken Coomer, Jessy Greene, Fred Lonberg-Holm, and Jim O’Rourke.

A live version of ‘Reservations’ from a legendary concert contained on Snoozin’ at The Pageant – Live 7/23/02 at The Pageant, St. Louis, MO – a recording that is part of the Super Deluxe LP and CD sets as well as the Deluxe LP and digital sets – is now available. A limited-edition vinyl 7” with versions of ‘I’m the Man Who Loves You’ and ‘War on War’, from the Super Deluxe box set, is available now from wilcostore.

Wilco marked the anniversary of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – which was released commercially on April 23, 2002, after a circuitous and storied gestation, including a period of streaming for free on the band’s website – with a performance of the album’s ‘Poor Places’ on April 18’s Late Show with Stephen Colbert, which may be seen here. The band is currently performing Yankee Hotel Foxtrot in its entirety (plus a mix of concert favourites and rarities) in two limited runs at New York City’s United Palace and Chicago’s Auditorium Theatre. The Chicago show on April 23 will be available as a live stream here.

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was widely acclaimed as one of 2002’s best albums, appearing in year-end lists of Mojo, NME, Q, Rolling Stone, and Uncut, among many others. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot also was featured in multiple decade-end lists, with Rolling Stone naming it #3 Album of the 2000s, as well as many Greatest Albums of All Time lists, including in the NME.

Among Yankee’s inspirations was a recording Tweedy bought at Tower Records in the late 1990s, The Conet Project: Recordings of Shortwave Numbers Stations. As Bob Mehr points out in his new album note, the record got “deep under Tweedy’s skin.” Tweedy said in his 2017 memoir, Let’s Go (So We Can Get Back), “It was as fascinating to me as anything being made by actual musicians using actual instruments… I wanted to know why it was so hypnotic to me. Why could I listen to hours of this stuff, even though I had no clue what any of them were saying. That question became the foundation for Yankee Hotel Foxtrot… the way people communicated or ultimately failed to communicate.” The album takes its title from a haunting recording of a woman repeating those words that is included in The Conet Project; that recording is sampled in the penultimate song on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, ‘Poor Places’.

“Conceptually, Tweedy had decided to focus on a big idea for the next album: the state of America. His lyrics – often distilled from scribbled pages of free verse or poetry – became a form of inquiry,” Mehr continues. Tweedy said, in 2004, “I wanted to write about the stuff right in front of my eyes, microscopically looking at America and asking questions about each little thing… How can there be all these good things and things that I love about America, alongside all of these things that I’m ashamed of? And that was an internal question, too; I think I felt that way about myself.”

Mehr says, “Exploring those questions, while weaving in strands of Eastern philosophy and bits of autobiography – Yankee lyrics would be loaded with the pained imagery of someone suffering from migraines and mental health issues – Tweedy would conjure a deep examination of both country and self.”

Describing the uncanny, strangely prescient feeling of the album, which Wilco began offering as a free stream on its website in 2001, Mehr notes: “In the wake of 9/11, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot would be burdened with unintended meaning. The disc had originally been scheduled for a September 11 release. Its cover – a Sam Jones-shot image of Chicago’s twin Marina Towers angled in looming fashion – bore an eerie resemblance to the felled World Trade Center towers. And the songs – with titles like ‘Ashes of American Flags’ and ‘War on War,’ and lyrics about how ‘tall buildings shake, sad voices escape’ – took on a terrible new resonance.”

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was the first Wilco release on Nonesuch Records following the band’s infamous split with Reprise (both labels are part of Warner Music Group). It was also the first release featuring the line-up of drummer Glenn Kotche and multi-instrumentalist Leroy Bach joining founding members Jeff Tweedy and John Stirratt. The 2002 Sam Jones film I Am Trying to Break Your Heart documented the fraught recording and mixing process, personnel changes, and label issues.

The relationship with Nonesuch would last nearly a decade and include three more studio albums – the Grammy Award-winning A ghost is born, Sky Blue Sky, and Wilco (the album) – along with a live album and a live DVD, plus reissues of earlier records, before Wilco began its own label, dBpm. The band’s current lineup of Jeff Tweedy, John Stirratt, Glenn Kotche, Mikael Jorgensen, Patrick Sansone, and Nels Cline has been together for nearly twenty years.


DISC 5: HERE COMES EVERYBODY – BUILDING YANKEE HOTEL FOXTROT (PART 2)
Side I: (TRAIN)
1. Radio Cure (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
2. War on War (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
3. Venus Stopped the Train (Here Comes Everybody Version) * #
4. I'm the Man Who Loves You (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
5. The Good Part (Here Comes Everybody Version) * #
Side J: (KETTLE)
1. Pot Kettle Black (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
2. Ashes of American Flags (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
3. Poor Places (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
4. Shakin' Sugar (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
5. Reservations (Here Comes Everybody Version) *

DISC 6: HERE COMES EVERYBODY – BUILDING YANKEE HOTEL FOXTROT (PART 2) / THE UNIFIED THEORY OF EVERYTHING – BUILDING YANKEE HOTEL FOXTROT (PART 3)
Side K: (ESCAPE)
1. Cars Can't Escape (Here Comes Everybody Version) * #
2. A Magazine Called Sunset (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
3. Remember to Remember (Hummingbird) The Unified Theory of Everything Version ** #
4. I Am Trying to Break Your Heart (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
Side L: (WAR)
1. Kamera (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
2. Radio Cure (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
3. War on War (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
4. Jesus, Etc. (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #

DISC 7: THE UNIFIED THEORY OF EVERYTHING – BUILDING YANKEE HOTEL FOXTROT (PART 3) / LONELY IN THE DEEP END – DEMOS, DRAFTS, ETC.
Side M: (DRUMMER)
1. Ashes of American Flags (Stravinsky Mix) ** #
2. Heavy Metal Drummer (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
3. I'm The Man Who Loves You (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) **
4. Pot Kettle Black (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
5. Poor Places (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
Side N: (RESERVATIONS)
1. Reservations (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
2. Love Will (Let You Down) Lonely in the Deep End Version *
3. Lost Poem Demo (Lonely in the Deep End Version) *
4. I’m The Only One Who Lets Her Down (Lonely in the Deep End Version) *
5. Has Anybody Seen My Pencil? (Lonely in the Deep End Version) *














[l] E1. Anniversary (Nothing Up My Sleeve) [American Aquarium Version] *









[v] G2. Not for the Season (Laminated Cat) [American Aquarium Version] *


[y] H2. Not for the Season (Laminated Cat) [Here Comes Everybody Version] * #





[xe] K3. Remember to Remember (Hummingbird) [The Unified Theory of Everything Version] ** #











[xq] N2. Love Will (Let You Down) [Lonely in the Deep End Version] *

‘Complex and dangerously catchy, lyrically sophisticated and provocative, noisy and somehow serene… Yankee Hotel Foxtrot… is simply a masterpiece.’ – Pitchfork, 10/10, April 2002

‘The looped chaos and plangent melodies... effectively heralded the birth of a new band, as Jeff Tweedy overhauled his compositional modus operandi. So tender was the emotional core of songs like ‘Jesus, Etc.’ that the record became wrapped up in America’s post-9/11 cultural discourse... Yankee Hotel Foxtrot embedded Wilco’s great American songwriter status.’
– Mojo

‘It's as if the Flying Burrito Brothers suddenly decided to cover Pavement songs. There is a gentle, rootsy beauty here that Wilco has buried in a box of vulnerability and covered with a handful of dirt.’ – New York Times

‘Born out of turmoil, Wilco’s fourth album was a stone-cold classic.’ – Uncut

Nonesuch releases seven special editions of Wilco’s landmark 2002 album Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. The now-classic record has been remastered and will be available as part of each set. The Super Deluxe version comprises eleven vinyl LPs and one CD – including demos, drafts, and instrumentals, charting the making of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – plus a live 2002 concert recording and a September 2001 radio performance and interview. That box set includes eighty-two previously unreleased music tracks as well as a new book featuring an interview with singer/songwriter/guitarist Jeff Tweedy, drummer Glenn Kotche, and Jim O’Rourke, who mixed the acclaimed 2002 album; an in-depth essay by journalist/author Bob Mehr; and previously unseen photos of the band making the album in their Chicago studio, The Loft. For the Yankee Hotel Foxtrot recording, Wilco was Jeff Tweedy, John Stirratt, Leroy Bach, Glenn Kotche, and Jay Bennett with Craig Christiansen, Ken Coomer, Jessy Greene, Fred Lonberg-Holm, and Jim O’Rourke.

A live version of ‘Reservations’ from a legendary concert contained on Snoozin’ at The Pageant – Live 7/23/02 at The Pageant, St. Louis, MO – a recording that is part of the Super Deluxe LP and CD sets as well as the Deluxe LP and digital sets – is now available. A limited-edition vinyl 7” with versions of ‘I’m the Man Who Loves You’ and ‘War on War’, from the Super Deluxe box set, is available now from wilcostore.

Wilco marked the anniversary of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – which was released commercially on April 23, 2002, after a circuitous and storied gestation, including a period of streaming for free on the band’s website – with a performance of the album’s ‘Poor Places’ on April 18’s Late Show with Stephen Colbert, which may be seen here. The band is currently performing Yankee Hotel Foxtrot in its entirety (plus a mix of concert favourites and rarities) in two limited runs at New York City’s United Palace and Chicago’s Auditorium Theatre. The Chicago show on April 23 will be available as a live stream here.

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was widely acclaimed as one of 2002’s best albums, appearing in year-end lists of Mojo, NME, Q, Rolling Stone, and Uncut, among many others. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot also was featured in multiple decade-end lists, with Rolling Stone naming it #3 Album of the 2000s, as well as many Greatest Albums of All Time lists, including in the NME.

Among Yankee’s inspirations was a recording Tweedy bought at Tower Records in the late 1990s, The Conet Project: Recordings of Shortwave Numbers Stations. As Bob Mehr points out in his new album note, the record got “deep under Tweedy’s skin.” Tweedy said in his 2017 memoir, Let’s Go (So We Can Get Back), “It was as fascinating to me as anything being made by actual musicians using actual instruments… I wanted to know why it was so hypnotic to me. Why could I listen to hours of this stuff, even though I had no clue what any of them were saying. That question became the foundation for Yankee Hotel Foxtrot… the way people communicated or ultimately failed to communicate.” The album takes its title from a haunting recording of a woman repeating those words that is included in The Conet Project; that recording is sampled in the penultimate song on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, ‘Poor Places’.

“Conceptually, Tweedy had decided to focus on a big idea for the next album: the state of America. His lyrics – often distilled from scribbled pages of free verse or poetry – became a form of inquiry,” Mehr continues. Tweedy said, in 2004, “I wanted to write about the stuff right in front of my eyes, microscopically looking at America and asking questions about each little thing… How can there be all these good things and things that I love about America, alongside all of these things that I’m ashamed of? And that was an internal question, too; I think I felt that way about myself.”

Mehr says, “Exploring those questions, while weaving in strands of Eastern philosophy and bits of autobiography – Yankee lyrics would be loaded with the pained imagery of someone suffering from migraines and mental health issues – Tweedy would conjure a deep examination of both country and self.”

Describing the uncanny, strangely prescient feeling of the album, which Wilco began offering as a free stream on its website in 2001, Mehr notes: “In the wake of 9/11, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot would be burdened with unintended meaning. The disc had originally been scheduled for a September 11 release. Its cover – a Sam Jones-shot image of Chicago’s twin Marina Towers angled in looming fashion – bore an eerie resemblance to the felled World Trade Center towers. And the songs – with titles like ‘Ashes of American Flags’ and ‘War on War,’ and lyrics about how ‘tall buildings shake, sad voices escape’ – took on a terrible new resonance.”

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was the first Wilco release on Nonesuch Records following the band’s infamous split with Reprise (both labels are part of Warner Music Group). It was also the first release featuring the line-up of drummer Glenn Kotche and multi-instrumentalist Leroy Bach joining founding members Jeff Tweedy and John Stirratt. The 2002 Sam Jones film I Am Trying to Break Your Heart documented the fraught recording and mixing process, personnel changes, and label issues.

The relationship with Nonesuch would last nearly a decade and include three more studio albums – the Grammy Award-winning A ghost is born, Sky Blue Sky, and Wilco (the album) – along with a live album and a live DVD, plus reissues of earlier records, before Wilco began its own label, dBpm. The band’s current lineup of Jeff Tweedy, John Stirratt, Glenn Kotche, Mikael Jorgensen, Patrick Sansone, and Nels Cline has been together for nearly twenty years.

When the whole world collapses around you, sometimes the only thing you can do is stomp it all loose. Erin Anne's second album, the gleaming, electrified Do Your Worst, charts that uninhibited romp through disaster. Written amid the rubble of personal grief and professional disappointment, later exacerbated by the devastation of a global pandemic, the record deepens Erin's venture into the blur between human and machine, adding a new roster of digital instruments to the mix. Drawing on dark, glossy '80s synthpop as well as the unabashed bombast of bands like The Killers, the L.A.-based songwriter deploys a cyborg persona to articulate a feeling of displacement from the world as a queer artist struggling to survive the machinations of late capitalism. With bright, interweaving synthesizers and ripples of Auto-Tuned vocals, Do Your Worst poses a dare to the world: Whatever you have in store, I'll take it standing.

Erin began writing her second album not long after adding a MIDI keyboard and vocal processing hardware to her home studio setup. While exploring her new gear, she found that she could work in the same vein as the artists and producers she loved the most. Do Your Worst takes inspiration from the music of Patrick Cowley, the disco and hi-NRG producer best known for working alongside Sylvester. Erin was taken by Cowley's use of vocoder on the 1982 album Mind Warp, where his distorted vocals create a queer, mutant subjectivity. That album rang out against the cataclysm of the AIDS epidemic; Erin found resonance in Cowley's music during the present-day pandemic. "I have found the most catharsis and the most safety in listening to the music of people in really, really horrific circumstances making something lasting and profoundly beautiful," she says.

Throughout Do Your Worst, which was mixed by Sarah Tudzin of Illuminati Hotties, songs like "Typhoid Mary" and "Florida" reckon with loss, despair, and abjection. "This Hungry Body" sears through pandemic-era touch starvation, while "Mirror Mirror" attends to the noxious but necessary funhouse of social media. On the playful, guitar-driven “Eve Polastri’s Last Two Brain Cells Have a Debate,” Erin uses the spy thriller TV show Killing Eve to explore queer codependency and masochism. Among these fraught subjects, Erin Anne finds opportunities for release. She stages internal conflict on a scale so massive that its details start to become clear; if they don't resolve, they at least become palpable.

"I’m very much a maximalist when it comes to production. I like vast landscapes. I like a stratosphere and a core -- I want the bass to be beneath the floor," Erin says. "This record is, in a lot of ways, a collection of some of the first moments that I was technologically able to achieve accurate renderings of how I hear my own emotional world."

Duke Ellington and Ella Fitzgerald's paths had crossed many times during the Thirties, Forties, and early Fifties, but no recorded trace of the two legendary musicians collaborating existed until 1957, when they would come together to produce a series of sessions which include the music on this LP.

It may seem incredible that not a single previous air shot of Ella with Ellington survives, but Duke had a tight band and didn't frequently play with musicians outside of his orchestra. Ella, on the other hand, after coming to fame with the Chick Webb orchestra in the late Thirties, was taken under the wing of Norman Granz's, from which point on she rarely recorded with anyone other than artists contracted to Granz, which included many of the greatest jazzmen of all time.
Because of Ellington's contractual commitments and incredible busy schedule, the sessions where fraught with problems and intermittent delays. Thankfully though, under Granz's supervision and stoicism, the Ella- Duke project was completed.

Repress

Crepuscule presents It's Kinda Funny, a vinyl-only collection of classic singles by iconic Scottish post-punk guitar group Josef K issued between 1979 and 1982.
As well as the three legendary 45s on Postcard Records (Radio Drill Time, It's Kinda Funny and Chance Meeting), the album also includes both Crepuscule singles (Sorry For Laughing, Missionary) as well as the original Absolute version of Chance Meeting from 1979. B-side tracks are also included, plus a digital download coupon.
Cover art by Jean-Francois Octave. Outer sleeve printed on matt reverse board. Inner bag features liner notes and archive images by Simon Clegg.
Josef K were The Sound of Young Scotland, together with Orange Juice, whose guitars were also radiant and brittle, whose rhythms were also scrubbed and blunt, whose vocals were also proud and serious, but who sounded like another group entirely' (Paul Morley), Josef K was about the heroic Outsider suavely surfing across the fraught surface of their albino funk fracas. Haig sounds high on anxiety, finding an odd, giddy euphoria in doubt.' (Simon Reynolds)
finding an odd, giddy euphoria in doubt.' (Simon Reynolds)

With the release of their new single ‘R&B’, the ever-exciting
English Teacher prove they could be your new favourite band.
 As far as Northern cities go, Leeds probably isn’t the first place
you’d think of as a burgeoning hotbed of fiercely independent
and DIY bands. Often overshadowed by its neighbours further
along the M62, it’s precisely because of this that Leeds’ music
scene is as vehemently independent and self-sufficient as it is.
 The latest band to emerge from the city are four-piece English
Teacher. Keeping Leeds’ longstanding tradition of
uncompromising post-punk alive, the quartet’s latest single
‘R&B’ is three minutes of clattering bass and crisp percussion,
sporadic guitar occasionally punctuating the tension as
frontwoman Lily Fontaine explores ideas of imposter syndrome
and lethargy throughout the creative process.
 Lethargic is one thing ‘R&B’ isn’t, however. Fraught and frantic
perhaps. Imbued with a dry wit and self-awareness certainly,
but no one’s about to level any accusations of indifference at
English Teacher. The band explain, “the song is about the
cyclical, productivity-diminishing paradox of low self-esteem and
imposter syndrome-induced writer’s block that then fuels low
self-esteem and imposter syndrome. It’s also about racial
identity and putting the love that you have to offer a potential
romantic partner back into yourself.”
 Harbouring a cloying sense of paranoia that only increases as
the track progresses, there are elements of bands such as Slint
and Sonic Youth at play. Rather than feel like a ‘90s throwback,
however, ‘R&B’ succeeds feeling not just contemporary but vital.
Providing both a short, sharp gut punch and insight into Leeds’
ever-growing indie scene.
 Recently supported Sports Team on tour.
 Dan Carey is set to produce a forthcoming album and also
plans to release a single on Speedy Wundergound.