Search:free time

*MILKY CLEAR VINYL - 300 COPIES ONLY FOR WORLD!!* Technology + Teamwork’s fizzling synths, interweaving textures and punchy rhythms are beguiling on their long-awaited debut album We Used To Be Friends. However, at the heart of it all it’s the connection between the group’s two members, Anthony Silvester and Sarah Jones, the friendship the much-travelled duo have managed to maintain for nearly 15 years and a showcase of the slow-burning construction of the electronic world that they’ve surrounded themselves with. We Used To Be Friends is ultimately the tale of two storied artists in their own right, holding onto each other through personal and career twists and turns, relocations and broader movements through respective phases of their lives. Silvester and Jones first met and then collaborated as part of biting post-punk five-piece XX Teens in 2008, eventually breaking off to forge their own path together even as the latter’s demand as a drummer grew. Performing with everyone from Hot Chip, Harry Styles and Bloc Party among many others, Jones has been a constant percussive presence across the sphere of alternative UK pop music – she’s also found time for her own solo project Pillow Person and played on records by the likes of Puscifer and Kurt Vile. Silvester meanwhile has performed in art galleries across Europe including: Fridericianum in Kassel, Kölnischer Kunstverein in Cologne, and Vleeshal in Middelburg, as well as providing sound design and composing work for several art films. Technology + Teamwork is the constant throughout all of that though. “Technology + Teamwork's name perfectly describes how we work” Silvester explains. “Sometimes the teamwork is between each other and sometimes it’s between us and the technology.” Although going by the name Technology + Teamwork as far back as 2014, two events conspired that pulled the project into focus for the pair of them: firstly, Silvester spent a year constructing a soundproof studio shed on the border of London and Essex where he lives. Secondly, inevitably, the pandemic brought the globe-trotting Jones back home to just seven miles away from her long-time collaborator and friend. “We probably hung out more than we had for a few years” says Silvester. “Also, after all her Pillow Person releases Sarah had gotten really good with recording vocals and knowing what did and didn’t work and had a really good home studio set up. We still worked separately though, exchanging ideas via email and WhatsApp.” As with many artists through 2020 and early 2021, working separately was a new necessity that they were forced to adapt to. However, it became clear that there were creative benefits to it. “It really changed our sound and our sounds became a lot more focused as a result” Jones says. “I wanted to use the same ideas of improvisation that I might use while playing the drums for myself and apply that to melodies and lyrics.” The album bristles with hyperpop modernity. You can hear it in the manipulated vocals most prominently on Big Blue’s disco strut and on Moving Too’s heady mix of pitched up voice and burrowing sub bass. However, the pair also looked to San Francisco and the West Coast synthesis movement of the 60s, Silvester inspired by the likes of Suzanne Ciani and Don Buchla. The plaintive lo-fi and melancholy of Amsterdam incorporates Mutable Instrument’s Marbles by Émilie Gillet which – inspired by Buchla’s own synthesis work – outputs random voltages to give the track an air of unpredictability. It’s something that occurs throughout the album, the duo revelling in the happy accidents that disrupt the flow of their hook-laden pop. “The ‘Buchlian’ ideas of music having randomness and uncertainty, completely freed us up” Silvester explains. “It felt a bit like having more members in the band, machines that didn't do what you expected or intended.” Perhaps more subtly, is the influence of 17th and 18th century Baroque music, with Silvester drawing a line between it and the 90’s R’n’B he and Jones both love – exemplified perhaps best on K+B’s percussive claps and sultry grooves. The portentous juddering synthpop of the title track, meanwhile, alludes specifically to Handel’s Sarabande. It’s typical of an album that only needs a scratch of its seemingly glossy surface to unearth a myriad of contorted touchstones and reference points that’ve fermented beneath it. Thematically there’s an anxious sense to the record, with tracks often balancing above a quiet sense of unerring tension even at their most bombastic. Moving Too is the result of an existential doubt that hit Silvester while out cycling, with the outro refrain "it's not enough to die you also have to be forgotten" a take on something Samuel Beckett once said. These worries are echoed on the album’s closing track What A Year, which borrows a lot of lines from the late drag performer and fashion designer Dorian Corey including the grimly defiant "you're gonna leave your mark somewhere in this world just by getting through it”. Those clouds offer a counter point to We Used To Be Friends, but then isn’t that what great pop albums do? Technology + Teamwork undoubtedly love the craft of the hook and the song, but they always position themselves left of centre, prepared to scuff things up, pull something out of shape or manipulate something to leave it sounding warped. Much like their friendship, nothing here is particularly linear – and it’s all the better for it. Bio: Anthony Silvester & Sarah Jones first collaborated as part of biting post-punk five piece XX Teens in 2008, eventually breaking off to forge their own path together even as the latter's demand as a drummer grew. Performing with everyone from Hot Chip, Bat for Lashes, Harry Styles and Bloc Party (among many others), Jones has been a constant percussive presence across the sphere of alternative UK pop music - she's also found time for her own solo project Pillow Person and played on records by the likes of Puscifer and Kurt Vile. Silvester meanwhile has performed in art galleries across Europe including Fridericianum in Kassel, Kölnischer Kunstverein in Cologne, and Wleeshal in Middelburg, as well as providing sound design and composing work for several art films. Technology & Teamwork is the constant throughout all of that though. "We Used To Be Friends" proves that Technology & Teamwork undoubtedly love the craft of the hook and the song, but they always position themselves left of centre, prepared to scuff things up, pull something out of shape or manipulate something to leave it sounding warped. Much like their friendship, nothing hear is particularly linear - and it's all the better for it.

Ken Boothe, der wohl begabteste jamaikanische Musiker seiner Generation, gilt heute als lebende Legende, dieüber einen Zeitraum von rund 60 Jahren unzählige Ska-, Rock-Steady- und Reggae-Klassiker aufgenommen hat.

Nach seinem Aufnahmedebüt im Jahr 1962 erlebte Ken Boothe eine äußerst erfolgreiche Karriere in Jamaika, bevor er 1974 mit seiner Interpretation von "Everything I Own" und dem Top-10-Nachfolger "Crying Over You" internationalen Ruhm erlangte.
Diese beiden äußerst beliebten Titel sind auf dieser Sammlung enthalten, die Teil der neuen "Essential Artist"-Serie von Trojan Record ist und die beliebtesten Aufnahmen einiger der größten
Musiktalente Jamaikas präsentiert.

Erhältlich als 28-Track-Doppel-Vinyl-LP und als umfassende 2CD-Compilation, zeigen beide Veröffentlichungen das außergewöhnliche Gesangstalent eines der besten und gefühlvollsten Interpreten, die der modernen Popmusikszene seit den Sechzigern ihren Stempel aufgedrückt haben.

Angelo is an LP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist/singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy’s father and both of Stuart’s parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the

Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo’s sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, “to get us out of our grief and into our bodies,” says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal — a resourceful, collective answer to “what happens now?”

Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. “Such a bro-y, ‘80s dude car, it’s been super fun to drive around in a new town,” Murphy says. “He’s older than us, he’s a classic, he’s got a story.” It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, “Which Way To The Club.” The question is quickly resolved by “Take A Trip” as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip — the kind of

imagined space or chamber within one’s self capable of “shifting a fraction of who you are,” says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be “as free as we could be,” adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: ”What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room.”

Next is “Shy Guy,” a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: “We are in junior high, we’re on the dance floor, what’s going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?” The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. “Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too,” Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one — something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, “It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission.”

“Angelo” and “Ooo La La” deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean’s catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo’s dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude “Colors” drifting into “Where Do We Go?”, a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space.

It all culminates in “Caldwell’s Way,” a fond farewell to their Bay Area community — “a part of my life that I knew couldn’t come back,” says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There’s the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: “I’d rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars.” And the song’s namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. “I’m only miles away, maybe I’m just feeling lonely,” the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and “Nostalgia” runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.

repressed !

From samba and bossa nova through to baile funk, with carioca expressions of jazz, rock and hip hop in between, the sound of Rio de Janeiro, while continually evolving, has always held an unnameable quality which reflects the magic and mystique of the city itself. Multi-instrumentalist and arranger Antonio Neves is the city’s newest trailblazer: the enfant-terrible of Rio’s music scene, leading a vital and diverse constellation of both emerging and well-known artists advancing the city’s musical legacy.

“It all started one sleepless night, after watching a Quincy Jones documentary”. Inspired by the legendary music magnate, Neves began writing a list of artists residing in Rio de Janeiro “people that I admire, that I consider geniuses of their instruments, who share with me affinities, anxieties and projects.” The list included some of Brazil’s most revered living musicians who Neves has worked with in recent years: Hamilton de Holanda, Leo Gandelman and Dorival Caymmi. Neves also called on some of Brazil's most exciting emerging talents including Alice Cayymii and Ana Frango Eletrico.

A Pegada Agora É Essa (The Sway Now) is Neves’ second album: a vibrant portrait of the current Brazilian music scene. From the regional to universal, popular to erudite, samba to rap, Latin rhythms to jazz, MPB and pop to good old rock'n'roll, Neves walks with fluency and mastery amongst all the musical genres that Brazil has to offer.

“My offer to the musicians was complete freedom to express themselves through the songs I proposed – classics like “Summertime”, “Luz Negra” and “Noite de Temporal”, and compositions of my own – creating a space of authorship for the band and the guests. A space for inventions, purges, delusions, laughter. The idea was to bring the freedom of jazz crossed by Brazilian rhythms, such as the traditionals Partido Alto (A Pegada Agora É Essa) and Jongo (Jongo no Feudo and Luz Negra); rhythms of African-Brazilian religions like Candomblé (Noite de Temporal) and Umbanda (Forte Apache); and a tribute to newest Rio de Janeiro’s contribution to Brazilian music, the Funk Carioca (Simba)”.

Coming from a musical family, Antonio’s father, Eduardo Neves, was a renowned conductor and a professor at Juilliard School of Music and the California Jazz Conservatory. In the bohemian neighbourhood of Lapa, aged 14, Antonio began his career as a drummer, before experimenting with brass. He would soon become a skilled trombonist and arranger achieving the recognition of his teachers and peers. It wasn’t long before he would be playing with some of the biggest names in Brazilian music, such as Hamilton de Holanda, Leo Gandelman, Moreno Veloso, Kassin and Elza Soares.

His debut album as a trombonist was PA7 (2017, Rock It), released at the same time he was travelling the world playing with artists like Moreno Veloso, Kassin and Leo Gandelman, and recording the albums Jobim, Orquestra e Convidados (2017, Biscoito Fino), with Mário Adnet and Paulo Jobim; and Elza Soares Canta e Chora Lupi (2017, Coqueiro Verde Records). More recently, Neves was the arranger for the acclaimed Little Electric Chicken Heart album, by Ana Frango Elétrico, which has been nominated for a Latin Grammy and voted 2019’s ‘Brazilian Music Revelation’ by The Art Critics Association of São Paulo.

In 1975, under the oppressive air of military dictatorship in Brazil, brothers Lelo and Zé Eduardo Nazario invited bassist Zeca Assumpção to join their musical experiments in a basement under Sao Paulo’s Teodoro Sampaio Street. As teenagers, the trio had already been playing together in Hermeto Pascoal’s Grupo, alongside guitarist Toninho Horta and saxophonist Nivaldo Ornelas, and it was while working together under Hermeto’s direction that the Paulista rhythm section (as they were then known) began to realise their own potential.

With many nightclubs and venues closed in the mid-70s and government censors dictating the output of radio, TV and art galleries, many Brazilian artists fled during the years of dictatorship. But underground, Grupo Um were fusing avant garde ideals with contemporary jazz and Afro Brazilian rhythm; making phenomenally free and expressive music - in stark contrast to the sterile, conservative conditions being imposed above ground.

Just like Hermeto Pascoal’s Viajando Com O Som from the following year, Starting Point was recorded over two days at Vice-Versa Studios, by revered engineer Renato Viola. The studio was one of the best in Sao Paulo and musicians communicated with engineers through cameras and a monitor, allowing the group complete immersion in the process. They also made use of the studio’s hemispherical tiled room, which served as an acoustic reverberation chamber.

The album begins with Zé Eduardo Nazario’s thunderous drum solo on “Porão da Teodoro”, before clearing the clouds with the lone Berimbau which opens “Onze Por Oito”. Built around a hypnotic electric bass line, heady Fender Rhodes improvisations, and more rip-roaring drums, it’s a rapturous, electrifying freak-jam in 11/8.

Like some invertebrate deep-sea curiosity, the free-form “Organica” is made up of Lelo Nazario’s playfully eerie prepared piano, with Zé Eduardo’s percussion flurries darting around Assumpçao’s double bass. The equally non-conformist, percussion-only piece “Jardim Candida” features many of Zé Eduardo’s home-made instruments, including a long saw blade played with vibraphone sticks and violin bow. While working with Hermeto, Zé Eduardo famously built his own all-in-one percussion set-up known as the “Barraca de Percussão” (Percussion Tent) - the first of its kind in Brazil, which he would also use on Hermeto Pascoal’s Viajando Com O Som and throughout his career.

“Suite Orquidea Negra'' (Black Orchid Suite) was written by Lelo Nazario as the score for an imaginary movie - the story of a rare, black orchid which produced a substance meant to cure all diseases, but which had mysteriously disappeared from the laboratory… “As a screenplay it’s not very good” reflects Lelo in jest, “but the music ended up being very interesting, the way its parts are chained to one another carries a little of the mystery I imagined for the movie.”

The album closes with the triumphant “Cortejo dos Reis Negros” (Procession of Black Kings) - a groovy variation on the Maracatu rhythm, with a two-note bassline underpinning piano improvisations, exultant wordless vocals, cuicas, slide-whistles and a very special guest appearance from Zé’s dog Bolinha.

Starting Point was to mark the inception of one of Brazil’s most daring instrumental groups. Their debut now sits in the lofty echelon of otherworldly 70s Brazilian music, alongside the likes of Marcos Resende & Index’s self-titled debut, Cesar Mariano & Cia’s Sao Paulo Brasil, Azymuth’s debut and indeed Hermeto Pascoal’s Viajando Com O Som. But just like all of those titles, which were either shelved or largely ignored at the time, Grupo Um - so radically ahead of their time - struggled to find a label to release their debut album. So Lelo kept the tapes safe in his archives, which is where they sat for almost half a century. Finally, almost fifty years later, this mesmerising piece of history is here, and it was only the beginning...

Grupo Um’s Starting Point will be released by Far Out Recordings, on vinyl LP, with an insert featuring unseen photos and liner notes by the Nazario brothers, as well as a CD on 17th February 2023.

You Can Can is an echoed affirmation, an album which traces song forms around silence, field recordings, and degraded analog memories. This is folk music transmogrified and mutated, as if recorded and reconstructed in Pierre Schaffer’s GRM studio.

Not your typical Mariposa folk duo, the group is comprised of Toronto avant-music scene stalwarts, vocalist Felicity Williams (Bernice, Bahamas) and bricolage artist and synthesist Andrew Zukerman (Fleshtone Aura, Badge Epoch). The album feels like a somnambulant conversation, fragmented and half-remembered with Williams’ vocals traveling through a landscape of field recordings and Zukerman’s saturated concrète topographies. It is an electro-acoustic assemblage, both analog and digital, comprised of air, electricity, minerals, wood, and water. Although the album nods towards traditional forms of folk and musique concrète (if at this point it can be called a traditional form), it is outwardly and inwardly contemporary; non-linear, citational, opaque, and sui generis. In a way it feels like a sonic index of the narrative experiments found on the infamous Language school-related publisher The Figures, in the work of Lyn Hejinian, Clark Coolidge, and Lydia Davis. In the musical continuum, the album picks up where Linda Perhacs left off in the early 70’s—explored by Gastr Del Sol in the ‘90s—a convergence of rural acoustic idioms and urban avant-electronics. This is country music for the discerning cosmopolitan citizen of the 21st Century.

RIYL: Luc Ferrari, Brannten Schnüre, William Basinski, Oval, Eric Chenaux, Emmanuelle Parrenin About Everything In Time and Failure Figures, Felicity Williams says:

Everything In Time is indebted to the language of Brazilian author Clarice Lispector (as translated by Alison Entrekin). Drawing on insights from psychoanalysis, we trace the roots of melancholy to render them available to consciousness; words from the ghostly realm of the transpersonal filter through dreams and shine a beam of light onto a lone trillium in a forest at night. Other influences include the experience of not knowing, of being subject to a gestation outside of one’s control. This is an ode to the power of naming to obliterate, to set free.

Failure Figures is a meditation on the radical contingency of reality and the vicissitudes of the will. With Slavoj Zizek as my guide (think: “Hegel for dummies” - I’m the dummy in this scenario), I wander through the valley of the shadow of death, and take heart. The last verse refers to an experience I had recording at a studio in Brussels. I was singing in French, with which I have some fluency, and the producer was complaining to the artist whose song it was that my delivery was not convincing. Thinking I was out of ear shot, he said in French, “c’est comme elle n'est pas là”; I was pronouncing the words correctly, but I failed to express anything. So what or whom is responsible for conveying meaning, if not the form of the word itself? And if the connection between meaning and form is broken, how do we fix it?

Gratitude to Thom Gill (guitar) and Daniel Fortin (bass) who joined us on the recording of Failure Figures. Thanks as well to my old roommate Christopher Willes, who unwittingly left behind his hand bells deep in the hall closet. We unearthed them by accident, and the bells became an important sound element. Thanks to other past roomies Robin Dann and Claire Harvie, whose childhood piano and guitar respectively still reside with us, and were used in the recording. Field recordings were made in Toronto, Canada and Celestún, Mexico in 2020.

Feedback Moves kicks off 2023 with a new record by @xcrswx and Lolina. @xcrswx are Crystabel Riley (drum-/human-skin) and Seymour Wright (saxophone), they released ‘Call Time/Hard Out’ on Feedback Moves in 2020. Lolina is an electronic and digital musician, who has previously released music as Inga Copeland and was a member of the band Hype Williams.

Their collaborative relationship stems back to 2020. Lolina invited @xcrswx to contribute new work to a radio residency on NTS. They made 3 pieces played across 3 episodes. After these were broadcast, further ideas were exchanged which led to a collaborative audio-visual piece, streamed on Cafe Oto’s website in February 2021. They also performed as a trio live at Café OTO in 2022.

The artists now present a split 10” vinyl. @xcrswx weave the above-mentioned pieces into a 10 minute piece titled ‘FIXES’. The duo strip their sound to bare components. Beginning with the sound of fireworks, the pair then work through stuttered snare shots and warbled, interplaying saxophone.

Lolina presents ‘FM’; some of her strangest and most subtle work to date. Echoing and furthering the abstract turntablism found on previous records ‘Who Is Experimental Music?’ and ‘Fast Fashion’. We hear found sounds, close and distant, rhythmically gathered and dissolved in a swirl of dub tone and timbre.

Tracks have had early play on NTS Radio, Clydebuilt Radio and are expected to be played on BBC Radio 3’s ‘Late Junction’ and ‘Freeness’ show’s.

ENARCHY is the debut album by Leipzig-based producer and singer Maria die Ruhe. It is the result of a deep and thorough look the
artist took into both her own inner workings and the world around her. In 14 tracks, she explores different types of energy,
oscillating between head and heart. Final destination of this sometimes painful process of self- exploration is the embodiment of
her own power and creativity; the realization, that she manifests her role as catalyst, healer, and fighter for freedom and equality
by reporting on her experiences. These songs are about nothing less than that. And you can also dance to them.
In a musical sense, Maria surpasses herself compared to previous releases. She is bolder, more explorative and dissolves genre
boundaries. Acoustic instruments like the cello and the piano unite playfully with electronic beats. Her expressive voice speaks and
sings from the lowest lows to the loftiest heights. Her self-disclosing lyrics communicate the deepest messages of the soul. One can
tell right away: something is at stake here, this is about a real human living through something real, and now reporting from the
front lines of the human experience.
With lines like „Things are changing all the fucking time“ (ENARCHY) she posts a reminder for the current zeitgeist and the resulting
global uncertainty. „Some things need to be destroyed before they can heal“ is a demand for openness towards change, even if it is
challenging, requires energy, and leaves behind some scars.
In ART IS THE ONLY REAL TRANSLATION OF LIVING FOR ME, Maria uses sentences like „I’ve been trying to please you, I got headaches
and I still don’t fit“ to express her desperation with existing structures of injustice and the lack of livability of the artist lifestyle.
„Ah, you’re an artist - and what do you do professionally?“ Everyone loves music and art! When, o when, will the understanding
follow that there need to be people who make this art as a central part of their lives?
Frustration takes turns with hope and a growing acceptance of the self. In EQUALISTA, Maria discusses antiquated conditions like the
inequality between the sexes in a kind of manifesto, with a simple proposal for solution: „Let’s both be selfish and raise our
energies, to create a whole world with all the things we need.“
In WE BELONG TO NEVER, Maria sings about the everyday horror of toxic relationships. Lines like „Disengagement and rage, I’ve become such a slave.“ express the despair of the emptiness that results from a lack of affection. She also describes treacherous
narcissistic manipulation: „You cut me small just to feel tall.“
In SKIN, she confesses: „I’m not as enough as everyone else.“ and describes the long and painful way from rejecting her own body
to loving herself unconditionally. „I hate what I feel, while I pretend to be free“ means she doesn’t want to be reduced down to
her body, doesn’t want to be seen as an instagrammable, thoroughly designed product; she wants to be acknowledged as an
individual.
In LOST, she poses a question that many are currently forced to ask themselves: „What do we do with all this solitude?“ Maybe
making use of the reclusion by exploring the shadow self. „Can you cope with the truth?“
The conclusion: energy is being freed up through the means of self-experience and living through the personal darkness -
ENARCHY. The realization: every human being is self-determined and should simply do what they feel. It is everyone’s right to
choose their own life’s path. Here, intuition serves as a signpost. This is both feminine and strong.
ENARCHY celebrates an embodied anarchy by working through the personal shadow and the genuine, healthy integration of the
struggle survived - not as a destructive rebellion, but as a testament of shameless, joyful self-empowerment.
„In the end, I want to be alive, because in reality, I’m free.“

Tod Dockstader's Aerial series, an electronic/drone masterpiece, is cherished among fans of the artist's work and this second volume is available in an audiophile quality double LP edition.

Tod Dockstader's Aerial series is sourced from his life long passion for shortwave radio. Dockstader collected over 90 hours of recordings, made at night, and comprised of cross signals and fragments plucked from the atmosphere.

Opening with airwave drones, Dockstader gradually allows elements to slowly come and go, summoning an ominous atmosphere of ethereal cloud clouds. Malignant placidity continues, giving the feeling of eavesdropping upon late-night audio activity not unlike discovering number stations while sweeping the dials. These sounds pull you in as their density and rhythms come and go.
Backward voices, deep echoing choruses of conversations flowing under the surface, ocean sounds, pulsing electro-rhythms, all seem to be created via the collaging of many hours of source recordings. A masterwork of collage and juxtaposition by an overlooked pioneer of American electronic music.

Artwork by John Brien (Imprec) is inspired by the propagation of shortwave radio signals throughout the earth's atmosphere.

"This return of Dockstader is something to cherish, not just because his output has been so limited and scarce but because what we do have is so intriguing, persuasive and cliche-free; the music of an inspired explorer who trails in nobody's slipstream." The Wire

"One of the great figures of musique concrete composition." Dusted

The Aerial project

I've written before of my interest in shortwave radio, in the notes to the Quatermass CD. Also, in the notes to the Omniphony CD (which has my first "Aerial" mix, "Past Prelude," in it), I mentioned "The Aerial Etudes," which was my working title for what became the three CDs you have. And, at the end of an interview with Chris Cutler (which can be found in the "Unofficial TD Website"), the piece I mentioned I was starting to work on at the time became Aerial.) When I was very young, people got most of their entertainment from radio. They called it "playing the radio," as if it were a musical instrument. That's what I've tried to do in this piece. About this time, a few people encouraged me to look into using a computer for this work.

I'd never used one, but I saw it would allow me to keep my mixes digital - no more transfer losses. So, at the end of 2001, I got a computer and an editing program for it, and spent what seemed a long time learning it. I began selecting mixes and loading them into the computer in late March, 2002. Out of the 580, I selected 90 "best" mixes - eventually reduced to 59, the ones on the CDs. Finally, in assembling the CDs, I followed David Myers' suggestion to allow each piece to flow into the next - making a continuous journey to the end. Tod Dockstader, 14 september 2003

About Tod Dockstader: Dockstader moved to New York in 1958 and became a self-taught sound engineer and sound effects specialist and apprenticed as a recording engineer at Gotham Recording Studios. It was around this time that he started to use his off-work hours to experiment with mixing and manipulating sounds on magnetic tape (musique concrète). By 1960 he had amassed enough material to assemble his first record Eight Electronic Pieces which was released on the Folkways label in 1961 (this would later be used in the soundtrack of Fellini’s Satyricon). The last of the eight pieces was later re-worked into his first stereo piece. In 1961 he applied to use the facilities at the Columbia-Princeton Electronic Music Center and was denied access by Vladimir Ussachevsky. Ussachevsky’s official reason was the “overstrained” scheduling of the studios, although many suspect that Dockstader’s lack of academic training was a factor in the decision. He continued to create music throughout the first half of the 60s, working principally with tape manipulation effects. His last piece at Gotham was Four Telemetry Tapes in 1965, after which he left to work as an audio-visual designer on the Air Canada Pavillion at Montreal’s Expo ‘67. It was around this time in 1966 that some of Dockstader’s pieces were released on three Owl L.P.s, and his work became known to a larger audience. He achieved modest recognition and radio play alongside the likes of Karlheinz Stockhausen, Edgard Varèse, and John Cage.

Nous'klaer audio presents Oceanic's debut album Choral Feeling. A rhythmically diverse electronic album full of sonic explorations and beautiful moments, all bound together by a sense of colour. The album touches on the core of what music can be for: a sense of togetherness, finding meaning in moments, a way to cope with loss and soundtracking dreams about a different future. The music on this album reflects that in the most personal way. Each track consists almost entirely of his friends' voices, recorded and transformed into the sounds you'll hear. No, you can But how Just think of anything How can it just be anything Why does it need to be more Because they're afraid of it. They're not afraid of the words Then what are they afraid of The power behind the words How can words have power If you say something, only you, maybe I can hear it. Perhaps someone sitting over near that tree can hear it too. If we say it together, maybe we can reach past that tree and reach that rock. But if us and a million others say them same thing, all at the same time. Then every tree and every rock everywhere will hear us. Trees and rocks don't have ears. No they don't but they do. Why don't they just cover their ears Because then they need to do that every time we use our voice. And use them we did and use them again we shall. They got tired of covering their ears, so they decided to cover our mouths. Won't they hear us now? We're safe here. For how long will we be safe? For now. Perhaps until later. Just try. Read the words like I've written, but do so like the birds in the trees. You are my sunshine A little louder You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy When skies are grey You'll never know dear How much I love you Please don't take my sunshine away Beautiful. Shall we go teach the others When will we have enough to free ourselves We'll always have more than they do. We only need to not forget I'll never forget Sing it again. Artwork by Bob Verhoeven. Text by Gregory Markus.

Another one from the fruitful collaboration with LA's highly regarded Patrick Houchen aka Shakaman. After Shakeena's “I bet you” 12" re-issue flying off the shelves, we deepen the exploration within Shakaman's treasure chest of Reggae/Dub gems with Shakeena's first and last album on Majicaa Records. Originally released in 1987, this album is a proper act of musical generosity, not so easy to point out the “hit” track here – clearly a case of all killer no filler. Unlike too many albums where the format length sadly gets the best of the artists' work, rest assured with this one you can play from the beginning to end and you'll only have to come back to flip it. The professional execution of what is hands down an ensemble of highly seasoned musicians sets the tone for the dreamy lyrics and arrangements to unravel. Besides expected reggae rhythms, Shakaman brings in other influences with subtle electro/freestyle hints that might have been hard to ignore in LA at the time. New remastered version sounding especially big and cozy on the low end. Can't go wrong!

restock

Melodies Of Ancient Beats Depth or Deep, (with Dep also meaning beautiful in Indonesian) is the meaning of this newly created persona from the artist DemoDc. After many years of experimenting with music making, releasing digital eps and albums, Demo has come to an end of a cycle arriving to a mature state of craftsmanship, ready to deliver his dream onto the vinyl medium.

This is the 1st ep that kickstarts a volume of a 5 ep project. Its own kind of album type edition so to speak. Down the rabbit hole is a deeply rich exploration of the unknown, immersing oneself with faith and love into a pandora’s box type scenario to find not chaos and random violence of destruction yet a carefully arranged melodic structure of orderly tapestry, traveling through the expression of quirky acid gobbles, with a steady deep chord of drive, arriving at a climatic unwind of free moving dance type melodies and wonder. This track gives electro a fresh stroke to a well founded genre, giving it a different approach to the medium. Today’s special is a track held close to heart, made back in 2007 after a skiing incident left MOAB DEP immobilized for 2 weeks. Whilst having travelled to NZ Queenstown for the trip, it dawned on the wounded artist to make sense elsewhere with his time, using it to create a very special track, of course unknowingly at the time. Returning home to Adelaide it quickly become a favourite for many underground artists yet the track has never really been given a chance to shine, to be heard…. not until now 12 years later, 2019. 
All made on his laptop, no midi used ( which is to be said mostly with all tracks created at heartheartrecords studios).

Today’s Special has a certain energy and vibe that immediately calls for the listener to pay attention. From its moody beginnings with lush rhodes keys, glitch ambient sounds, followed by the groovy-type horn sounding hook, whisking the listener away into a sunsetting type mood elevating itself onto new ground each step of the way. With some subtle bass movements and emotive chord progression, we arrive at a very warm heartfelt dance track that can only leave any dedicated listener and lover of common deep house music, with a tingling effervescence of radiant glow and smiles.
 Today’s Special proves to be its own cult hit within the archives of tracks made in the heartheartrecords realm. Today's special celebrates the meaning of 'NOW' the present moment.

Originally released in 1987, « Metropolitan Jungle » by German synth-pop band Cold End is reissued by Swiss label Proxima. Cold End is the second musical project of Katrin A. Kunze, Jürgen Grah and Markus Kammann. Musically, the sound of Cold End was something special back in the time, as a successful fusion of electronic and soul. Dynamic percussions, synth textures and enchanting vocals. Includes an aerial rework by Audrey Danza. All four tracks are freshly remastered!

Originally Re Eff (pronounced Ri Èf) was a bunch of texts. One hundred and fifty pages that Julien Gasc wrote by trying his hand at the art of cut-up: a literary and political act of counter-fiction based on William Burroughs’s method. It was also Julien Gasc’s response to the isolation of 2020, while he was seeking refuge in the Southwest of France, with time as far as the eye could see, and a piano.

For a long while, it hadn’t been about songs, but about expressing the indescribable by cutting randomly from books and his own notes, attempting to fleetingly strike a balance, find a beauty, a happy accident. Incidentally, it was almost by accident, while recycling a piece that he’d composed for steel guitar pedal, that Julien Gasc sketched the first draft of “Ce soir les bouteilles dansent” (“Tonight the Bottles Are Dancing”). This was combined with a version of “Rosario Bléfari”, recorded on an inexpensive Casio synthesizer. These were Re Eff’s baby steps.

While everything was at a standstill, in stasis, Julien Gasc wanted to send a group message to some friends, to his family, a message from a confinee to those who weren’t answering, friend or foe, imaginary or otherwise. It was this collective recipient that he nicknamed Re Eff. The name comes from “re” (re-) and “effacer” (erase), words found during a cut-up and transformed into ri èf for added euphony, like a facetious grief (grievance, reproach in French) without the “g”.

Like its title, a kind of serious joke, the album is one long interplay between humour and gravitas, sense and nonsense, shadow and light, aiming to fully describe feelings in terms of their ambiguous and contradictory elements.

Through a return to regular piano practice, calm recovered at a holiday resort town, and literary experimentations, to which he added transcribed dreams, as in “La scie de la vision modern” (“The Saw of Modern Vision”), Julien Gasc composed ten demos on his computer. These demos were then rerecorded at Syd Kemp’s Haha Sound studio in London, in December 2021. The mix was completed there again, in February 2022, by Syd and Julian.

Play to play and write to write, those are the keywords of Re Eff, in which memories are freely combined (“À travers le regard de l’indienne” / “Through the Amazon’s Eyes”), the theme of enclosure and passion (“Amour velours” / “Velvet Love”), melodrama ("Délivrance"), and romantic novella (“Tout ne peut pas nécessairement donner quelque chose” / “Not Everything Leads to Something”). Music resolutely oriented towards the piano, towards bold and filmic harmonic movements that make a successful form of lyrical poetry possible. Because all in all, by singing about current events – his own and those of the world – in an elegiac tone, like bards, Julien Gasc was gradually transformed from pop singer into poet.