Buscar:full bloom

While she was waiting for her last album 'Pripyat' to be released, Catalan composer and producer Marina Herlop was restless. She was concerned about her (by then) uncertain music career, and felt emotionally unmoored. "Some days I used to sit on the balcony of my flat to catch some sun," she explains, "I would close my eyes and start visualizing myself as a gardener, pulling out purple weeds from the soil, every bad memory or emotion I wanted to expulse being one of the plants." As the days dragged on, the fantasy deepened, and Herlop discovered that parts of the garden was withering; the energy she had been putting into the non-musical side of her life had seeped into her creative pasture and poisoned it. She knew what she needed to do to overcome the blight: plant some seeds and tend to her art to help it blossom and bloom once again. 'Nekkuja' is a place for Herlop's warmest, sweetest sentiments to rise to the surface and crack through the topsoil. She describes the record as a way for her to seek and affirm inner light, and it's undoubtedly her brightest, poppiest statement to date. The forward-thinking, experimental touches that nourished 'Pripyat' are still present, but blessed with a level of positivity that's rare to find in a scene so entranced by darkness and melancholy. Skittering fragments of ornate acoustic instrumentation provide a serene welcome to 'Busa', punctuated by precise electronic processes that shuttle the sound towards abstraction and fantasy. Herlop's voice grows over the tangle of sounds from a childish giggle into a layered, matted mantra, sounding passionate, hopeful and full of energy. The vitality spills over into 'Cosset', where she wraps powerful motifs around ricocheting beats and dramatic piano rolls. Herlop's garden opens up dramatically on 'Karada' when bucolic field recordings crack like sunlight over harp plucks and willowy vocals. Her voice seems to bend around the whooshing streams and chittering of birds as if she's singing to the manicured land itself - a utopian paradise that Herlop employs as a metaphor for the creative process. In contrast to the view that an artist is an isolated genius or an idol to be worshipped, Herlop believes that the garden helps us see the process as closer to devotion or perseverance. A gardener brings order to the wild chaos of the outdoors, collaborating with nature to arrange something vibrant and enduring. Blending familiar sounds with fanciful concepts, Herlop traces an imaginary garden, imploring us to wander and wonder. And by the album's billowing final track 'Babel', it's flowered into a flush of pruned vocal phrases and delicately groomed orchestral rushes, painted in orange, green, blue and red.

“My introduction to “noise” came from a record shop in Lake Worth, Florida ran by a musician named Kenny 5. Kenny had left Detroit sometime in the mid nineties and had begun selling used records and CD’s from the downtown strip of this tiny southern Florida city in a humble shop sandwiched between a deli and a dog grooming business. Kenny previously was on labels like Amphetamine Reptile and timeSTEREO, and the records and videotapes that would be on repeat at his shop were a vast sonic expanse that spoke to the eclecticism of his experience as a touring musician participating and adjacent to American noise culture through the early to late 90’s. In 1998, I was eleven years old and I would order a pizza with him and watch VHS tapes of Japanese noise and deathmatch bootlegs, as well as any other sonic and subcultural rarities that far outstripped my age to comprehend (notably the RRR “Journey Into Pain” compilation and various Vanilla Tapes videos). This widecast net of information formed an introduction to a reality that did not fall deaf on me, but it took many years later for me to reorient the specific freedoms of what this dense and cathartic sound culture had imparted on my life and would continue onward to.

What does this have to do with this selection of choice recordings from the Secret Boyfriend catalog for the enmossed label? For the uninitiated, Secret Boyfriend is the long running moniker of Ryan Martin, North Carolina musician and label proprietor of the Hot Releases imprint. For over a decade from this writing I have watched Secret Boyfriend, and Hot Releases by extension as a curatorial and archival effort, embodying the multiplanal capacity that noise loosely functions from as an umbrella ideology and formalist avenue for sound creation. For anecdotal purposes, from (before) 2006 until roughly 2023 the East Coast of the United States showcased a vibrant network of eclectic regional festivals that saw wide swaths of artists addressing and negotiating the notion of what qualified “noise” from a conceptual and ideological perspective. Some festivals honed in on particularities in aesthetics and tropes, and others had a kind of “catch-all” implementation that allowed for a salvation of the sort of alienated and singular artistry that was amassing throughout these territories. While clear guidelines had been set from regional predecessors as to how noise with a capital “N” should maneuver, Secret Boyfriend is emblematic in the spirit of fluidity that was either implicitly coupled to the notion of the genre, or grew to evolve towards or devolve from.

Within Secret Boyfriend performances, I have seen and admired a mirroring from a ravenous appreciator of this culture at large back towards itself. Typical of a Secret Boyfriend set is an interchangeable narrative arc wherein blistering feedback laden scrap metal improvisations are forayed into naive ambient or “pop” songs, or skipping CDs, or mixer feedback play, or delayed Roland 707 drum workouts all at once and in a unique hegemony. Secret Boyfriend's stylistic mastery of each endeavor is at once an homage to a history of loving listening and enacting, while a brave step into the realm of actualizing the unique fluidity of his own practice. In performance and the action of network engagement, Secret Boyfriend operates a survey of that which he sought to hear and that which he cultivates around his work. His operations are mirrors, and the project (alongside his other peers) is a reflection on the ethos of his time.

Conversely his recording practice narrows in on these moments and allows for a different kind of intimacy or alienation for the non live listener. This record of selected “pop songs” (let's call them that) is particularly poignant at a time when the culture Martin mirrors is at a strange crossroads with itself. The aforementioned festival networks necessarily change and shift. The onlookers become the artists, the artists find new horizons, and the spaces for these cycles fade into locales of a distant memory. It seems, from my perspective, that audiences currently yearn for a more bottlenecked experience, searching for some ontologically vetted manifestation of an idea, of a sound and less for an experience that functions in opposition to our collective banalities. This makes sense in the face of general global catastrophism that plagues us. We need certainty of what something is somewhere, don’t we? Noise as an idea has expanded and contracted to so many iterations of itself it is hard to tell what it even is, and it is particularly difficult to identify in the absence of solid network activations a moment to reflect on its own complexities and nuances. In the face of so much change, I argue that the language of noise culture at large has on one hand become increasingly didactic and predictable, and laughably inclusive and non linear on the other. Probably has always been this way, but now we are in the midst of a moment of extreme access and indexicality, which somehow cauterizes expansion and naivety and chance.

This record highlights the Secret Boyfriend that obscures didacticism by highlighting output that opens up for more challenging catharsis and emotive signal processing. It provides an entry to the materialism of a cultural field full of ecstatic complexity and beautiful inconsistency. In these muted moments Secret Boyfriend has given us over his career we have an argument for evolving languages that further challenge our notions of what is supposed to happen and how it is supposed to be presented. In his more song oriented expansiveness, we can punctuate the ability to think in new modalities. Listening to these recordings reminds me of the polarity of sitting in the record store as a kid and understanding that His Name Is Alive is on 4AD and (gasp!) timeSTEREO. This trite early impression that nothing is really as different as our imaginations might want them to be, and that we can do whatever we want mostly within the creative realms we work through is an important filter to look through Secret Boyfriend as a project and a vessel. If we can achieve abandon and vulnerability through our artistic endeavors, then we have a sound model for, maybe, new potentialities. If that’s too much projection, or just complete liberal bullshit, I am fine with that. Secret Boyfriend's oeuvre at best offers us moments of reprieve to ponder these complexities, or at least a moment to zone out on a drive through North Carolina Highway 54.

You have one pocket of life that you must do whatever you want to inside of. Secret Boyfriend does it affectionately, in a variety of forms, and always with deep sentimentality. These recordings are a wonderful set of songs to begin further investigation from. Thank you Ryan for allowing as many avenues as possible to continue a broad cultural exchange and conversation that intersect and refract while being the kind of artist that is brave enough to not phone in the effort.”

- Nick Klein , May 2024

'If We Land On Water' is the first album from Spiral Wrack, a duo of Ali Wade (Frequency Domain) and Ralph Cumbers (Bass Clef / Myriad Myriads). Although the two have been good friends for decades and appeared on some of the same labels, this album marks their first musical collaboration, following a one-off appearance on Frequency Domain's 2023 compilation, 'Partials III'. Previous solo work from Ralph and Ali has appeared onPunch Drunk, Idle Hands, Pan, Trilogy Tapes and Werk Discs.

Here they present a full-length work of woozy, heavily processed guitar and synth duets, where beachcombed melodies wash up on unknown shores and strange flowers bloom at the high water line. Robin Guthrie meets Laurie Spiegel with Neptune at the controls. Rum and reverb, if you will.

Strange Power!, the fifth record from Durham, NC-based songwriter and poet Anne Malin Ringwalt, emerges from the darkest waters of the self into a world remade. Releasing in conjunction with her second book of poetry, What Floods (Inside the Castle, Oct. 2024), Strange Power! overflows with Ringwalt's teeming and sensuous personal symbolry: glowing lilacs and gentle queens, dolphins wild and girls who grew up brave _ T.S. Eliot sung by Cat Power, backed by Mount Eerie. She sings: "I rose up from water." Ringwalt writes and performs with the authority of a lifetime spent harnessing the alchemy of storytelling; her belief in the power of words to heal and transform is palpable in each achingly- delivered lyric. Made amidst profound inner and outer change, Strange Power! also sees Ringwalt taking up the role of self-producer for the first time, mirroring and supporting the record's Orphic quest by gathering contributions from a coterie of friends wielding an electric range of American instruments. Violins, vibraphones, drum machines, electric guitars dappled with spring reverb, wind-blown shells, and a host of other numinous sounds form an unfurling and shadowy world which was then carefully honed during the mixing process (shepherded by Michael Cormier-O'Leary and Lucas Knapp) _ settling the final record in an eerie meridian between spareness and verdancy. The result is a beguiling and darkly blooming realm: the sound of a personal cosmos being remade, piece by piece. Ringwalt is at the height of her spirit as both songwriter-poet and singer, her willowy voice by turns conjuring and keening as she reckons with her deep past and the stories told since. Opening track "The Pines" sets the stage for a record of truly life-long scope: "I was a child, now I hold her / I was asleep for many years." Some songs, like the gorgeous "North Carolina" and "The Saint," were written as early as 2013 but, Ringwalt says, "insisted upon being remembered" as the record took shape; in its final form, they serve as inciting moments of self-discovery before the journey to come. "The Visionary" recalls one of Ringwalt's earliest musical breakthroughs _ her re-rendering of an Emily Brontë poem into a song at age 15 _ and, she says, "`cites' the melody of that song in the context of this new one _ a holding of the past and present and every layer in between/beyond, in utter solitude _ a solitude that reflects certain aspects of abandon as a child and an adult..." This unusually lengthy time-scale lends Strange Power! a deeply moving sense of narrative fullness. Stretches of the record _ particularly the "Judgment Day" ? "River" ? "Lilac Bloom" trifecta that form the black heart of Side 1 _ may recall familiar wanderings of personal underworlds such as Mount Eerie's Lost Wisdom Pt. 2 or Neil Young's Ditch Trilogy. Yet this hollowed landscape is in turn exorcized by the a capella "I Know," in which Ringwalt sings "I won't be gutted by you / For giving and trying to heal / I won't be gutted, I am not a fool / I deserve a love that is new" before the song concludes with a piano passage that recalls hymnal music _ suggesting a faith in life itself to offer new beginnings. Side 2 features some of Ringwalt's most powerfully introspective writing to date, as the songwriter casts off myth after myth in her search for personal transformation. By the final song, "Stories," the energy that has been gathering all throughout the record breaks loose as Ringwalt reflects: "I wrote so many stories, not knowing what the end was." But at this stage in the journey, we know there is no such thing as an ending; if the healing process is never complete, the storyteller's strange power is what finally offers liberation.

Love Is A Flame In The Dark is the debut album by experimental songwriter Karl D’Silva. A raw labour of love, a towering spire of twisted steel, tenderness and becoming, it’s a body of songs that belies the virtuoso talents of an artist whose reputation has been built on collaborating with various avant garde underground luminaries. Self-recorded at home in Rotherham and pulsing with the conviction of a true believer, these songs burst out of their self-consciousness to meet life head on, bristling with energy, 10 glimpses of the human spirit in the darkness.
Recorded throughout 2021 - 2023 and mixed in Leeds with engineer Ross Halden, D’Silva has constructed a Pop language for himself. Mutated songs that owe a small debt to the post-Industrial music of Cabaret Voltaire, Nine Inch Nails and Coil, they’re nonetheless powered by a vigorous tenderness, earnestness and D’Silva’s knack for melody. Each song is meticulously sound-designed, using synthesised sounds created from scratch married with D’Silva’s virtuoso playing on saxophone and guitar. The songs on Love Is A Flame In The Dark are unabashed, earnest love letters to living, requiems for a world fading away and small gestures of solidarity in the face of entropy.
Until now, D’Silva’s fingerprints could be found on live dates with Thurston Moore, Oren Ambarchi, Hardcore pioneers Siege and Rian Treanor as well as recordings by previous groups Trumpets Of Death and Drunk In Hell. Primarily associated with the alto saxophone in his improvisation work, Love Is A Flame In The Dark features a dizzying array of instrumentation, all played by D’Silva. D’Silva’s current membership of the group Vanishing may be a good touchstone for the dense, sonically thrilling world-building on the album but the most
striking instrument, perhaps, is D’Silva’s voice. With a soulful, rasping timbre resulting from prolonged intubation as a new-born, his vocal is both fearless and tender. On the soaring, electronic body mover Wild Kiss, thundering percussion is in service to Karl’s voice full of desire, arching up into a flayed falsetto. It’s a trick repeated on Flowers Start To Cry, where it’s deployed against the backdrop of layers of ripping alto and thudding drum programming that recall Nine Inch Nails’ visceral production, if they were covering a Prince hit. These songs capture the essence of 2024’s Karl D’Silva music; pure physicality
breaking down to reveal a shining, compassionate vulnerability.
The full breadth of Karl D’Silva’s instrumental prowess is in evidence from the off. On The Outside imagines blooming out of personal apocalypse with a soundscape of synth, saxophone worthy of any late 60s Free Jazz blower and crushing sound design. Entropy is planet-sized synth pop, Nowhere Left To Run uses midi-string orchestration to tell a story of light emerging from the dark. It’s a theme picked up
throughout the album: The Butcher is a political parable, the narrator holding power to account with grotesque, brutal imagery. It’s on a track
like Real Life that the true message emerges, however. D’Silva is peering through the layers of artifice, struggle and the fog of daily
living to find a life full of energy, connection and light. Each song here is a route into this light, out of the darkness.

Matt Filippini is an Italian guitar player, rock songwriter and producer. After working with some local bands, he started to take it seriously when in 2001 he started to play some gigs in Italy during a masterclass tour of the legendary drummer Ian Paice (Deep Purple founder and current member since 1968 but also with Paul McCartney, Gary Moore and Whitesnake). One year later, in 2003, after writing a bunch of rocking songs and recording a demo in his home studio, Matt gave a cd with the tracks to listen to Mr. Paice who liked the stuff and agreed to record the drum tracks for the songs. So after Ian Paice recorded three of the tracks, Matt asked Glenn Hughes (Deep Purple, Black Sabbath, ...) to record vocals for two of the songs. Those became Rose In Hell and Where Do You Hide The Blues You've Got, two of the most appreciated songs from the first Matt's studio album, MOONSTONE PROJECT Time To Take A stand, released April 2006 on Majestic Rock Records. The album features other rock and roll gods like Carmine Appice, Steve Walsh of Kansas, Eric Bloom of Blue Oyster Cult, Graham Bonnet of Rainbow and many more! The album, produced and written by Filippini himself, has been acclaimed by the music press with some great reviews and adored by thousands of classic rock fans from all over the World. In 2010 Matt toured Spain and Italy with Carmine Appice., in September 2010 Matt he played a festival in Sardinia along with Roger Glover (Deep Purple), Bobby Kimball and Steve Lukather of Toto and Vinny Appice (Black Sabbath and Ronnie Dio).In 2011, Through the next few years he played with Deep Purple, Doogie White (Rainbow and Malmsteen) and Neil Murray (Whitesnake and brian May Band), as well as several gigs with Hughes and Paice. He has certainly been active these last few years! the Moonstone Project title “New Life” the full album has been completely remixed and remastered by Fredrik Folkare, featuring on the album the Rock legends Glenn Hughes, Graham Bonnet, Eric Bloom, James Christian, Andrew Freeman, Ian Paice, Ken Hensley, Carmine Appice etc.

Zimmerman conjures up a kind of Arcadian folk surrealism that is utterly his own.” MOJO "Startling collection of intimate, home-recorded songs from the cult singer-songwriter adored by David Bowie and Big Thief alike. I eulogised the “Arcadian folk surrealism” of his 1974 ‘Over Here In Europe’ but, if anything, this informal collection of intimate home-studiorecordings is even better. Recorded between 1973 and76 whilst living in Belgium this is the kind of assured, organic freewheeling folk music that has the mellow, introspective rough-edged feel of some lost private-press LP, the kind rightly revered by Endless Boogie’s Paul Majors as “real people” music. A true find.” Andrew Male MOJO magazine Never released before collection featuring Ian A Anderson & Maggie Holland recorded 73-77 is among Tucker’s finest - Free-ranging, Playful, Intimate - his Songpoet imagination unbound and in full bloom. Recorded between 1973-76 this is the first ever release for ‘I Wonder If I’ll Ever Come True’ a stunningly beautiful, homegrown collection by Songpoet Tucker Zimmerman and friends. The range and depth is astonishing. From the heady surreal journey of ‘It All Depends’ Upon the Pleasure Man’, to the uplifting Gene Clark-esque 'So It Goes’, to some of his most beautiful & touching love songs in ‘Let’s Start Over Again’ & ‘Song’. Only one song has seen the the light of day before now - ‘Taoist Tale’ from his 1984 album ‘Word Games’. This recording from a decade earlier loses no power in its folkier stripped down style driven by Tucker’s strong narrative.
While living in bucolic seclusion in Belgium with Marie-Claire, Tucker invited visiting musicians (Derroll Adams, Wizz Jones, Maggie Holland, Dave Evans, Ian Anderson) into his home studio to play and live tape whatever songs he had at hand. Maggie Holland and Ian A Anderson feature, while Tucker found a freeing simplicity in just guitar, ’70s organ, bass and piano. We are so grateful to Ian A Anderson, who carefully kept and curated these recordings from 50 years ago. “Every time I would leave, Tucker would hand me another tape full of songs”. Ian worked with Tucker and ourselves to present this wonderful album. The collection is among Tucker’s finest - free-ranging, playful, intimate - his Songpoet imagination unbound and in full bloom. The ethos, the playing, the freedom, feels like Ronnie Lane’s time in the Welsh Borders. Unhurried, liberated, down-home and cosmic. Extraordinary music made among friends.

'In `All This and So Much More' Tasha is an artist flung open. For Tasha, the last few years have been propulsive, dynamic, bursting at the seams. They've included painful encounters with grief; a sudden break up; new flirtation; new hair; the glitter of world travel and not least, a role in Tony-nominated Broadway musical `Illinoise' which adapts Sufjan Steven's `Illinois' for the stage. If `Tell Me What You Miss The Most' was an introspective meditation on love with a few moments of glancing toward what's next, `All this and So Much More' is Tasha turned outward, flourishing, telling us what it's like to take life by the chin and look it in the eye. Take, for example "Eric Song." This was the first song to be written on the album, penned while Tasha grappled with the sudden, tragic death of Eric Littman, the co-producer of her last album. Though the instrumentation is a familiar 3/4 guitar strum, lulling us into a comforting waltz, Tasha's voice is breathy with grief, adding depth and dimension to the hushed sound. "No, I'm not alone after all / You must be near / Facing this soaring sprawl," she sings, transforming the experience of loss into a talisman of love and courage meant to help usher in a new self. Said a different way, `All This and So Much More' is a full-throated ode to all of the ups and downs of becoming. In the opening track, "Pretend," when Tasha sings about "feelings outgrowing this little life," we get the sense, both lyrically and sonically, of someone in the throes of growth. This is an album crafted with a big, ambitious sound (in part, thanks to the production of Gregory Uhlmann)_cinematic droning, orchestral woodwinds, dazzling arrays of jangling guitar, all lining up to capture a sweeping moment in Tasha's life. Written over the course of 2022 and 2023, right on the cusp of Tasha being cast in Illinoise, the songs in this album invoke friendship, heart ache, flirtation, doubt. From the social anxiety of "Party" ("Do they think I'm funny? / Did they like my jokes last night?") to the questing for meaning in "So Much More," Tasha brings us along on a journey of finding out that the person you wanted to be was inside of yourself, just waiting to bloom all along. She sums it up neatly in her final track, "Love's Changing," charging us with a brilliant, sweeping vision of the future, singing: "Suddenly the world is bigger than it ever felt before / Feel the weight of my future sinking in / See the joy I'm running toward." In `All This and So Much More,' Tasha asks us to consider abundance in its truest form. Our lives, a deluge of possible experience if only we will surrender to it, all the way from the citric ache of heartbreak to the chest bloom of new adventure.

'In `All This and So Much More' Tasha is an artist flung open. For Tasha, the last few years have been propulsive, dynamic, bursting at the seams. They've included painful encounters with grief; a sudden break up; new flirtation; new hair; the glitter of world travel and not least, a role in Tony-nominated Broadway musical `Illinoise' which adapts Sufjan Steven's `Illinois' for the stage. If `Tell Me What You Miss The Most' was an introspective meditation on love with a few moments of glancing toward what's next, `All this and So Much More' is Tasha turned outward, flourishing, telling us what it's like to take life by the chin and look it in the eye. Take, for example "Eric Song." This was the first song to be written on the album, penned while Tasha grappled with the sudden, tragic death of Eric Littman, the co-producer of her last album. Though the instrumentation is a familiar 3/4 guitar strum, lulling us into a comforting waltz, Tasha's voice is breathy with grief, adding depth and dimension to the hushed sound. "No, I'm not alone after all / You must be near / Facing this soaring sprawl," she sings, transforming the experience of loss into a talisman of love and courage meant to help usher in a new self. Said a different way, `All This and So Much More' is a full-throated ode to all of the ups and downs of becoming. In the opening track, "Pretend," when Tasha sings about "feelings outgrowing this little life," we get the sense, both lyrically and sonically, of someone in the throes of growth. This is an album crafted with a big, ambitious sound (in part, thanks to the production of Gregory Uhlmann)_cinematic droning, orchestral woodwinds, dazzling arrays of jangling guitar, all lining up to capture a sweeping moment in Tasha's life. Written over the course of 2022 and 2023, right on the cusp of Tasha being cast in Illinoise, the songs in this album invoke friendship, heart ache, flirtation, doubt. From the social anxiety of "Party" ("Do they think I'm funny? / Did they like my jokes last night?") to the questing for meaning in "So Much More," Tasha brings us along on a journey of finding out that the person you wanted to be was inside of yourself, just waiting to bloom all along. She sums it up neatly in her final track, "Love's Changing," charging us with a brilliant, sweeping vision of the future, singing: "Suddenly the world is bigger than it ever felt before / Feel the weight of my future sinking in / See the joy I'm running toward." In `All This and So Much More,' Tasha asks us to consider abundance in its truest form. Our lives, a deluge of possible experience if only we will surrender to it, all the way from the citric ache of heartbreak to the chest bloom of new adventure.

It’s 2024 and Egyptian-born artist of South Sudanese origin Sam Alfred has had a monstrous 12 months. A new year means stepping in a new zone with new tunes. This is Forward Step.

First is the title track “Forward Step (Journey Mix)”, an epic cow-bell-laden house hammer that blooms into a euphoric flower. Running with a 90’s club flavour, Sam lays airy synths over punchy piano and rave stabs while an all-powerful speech plays out, celebrating the idea that we’re all in control of writing our futures. There’s a bubbling over of excitement on this one as it builds and builds and builds!

Up next is “Care 4 U” – a crunchy drum club roller paired with fuzzy bass tones and a super hooky vocal loop. A section that’s been lodged in our brains from the moment we heard it. Toss in airy pads and a key melody that’s also impossible to forget and this track’s got you hook, line and sinker. In true Sam Alfred style, “Care 4 U” is yet more proof that this lad is a wizard at writing jacked-up club cuts, each full of fizz.

Third in line comes “Keep It” a relentless hypnotic piece of techno. Outer space synths drone while shuddering percussion rumbles beneath. It’s here where the EP takes a darker turn. The curtain closer and focus track for the EP drop is “Distance” – an acidic house track to seriously lock and load to. Characterised by sharp hi-hats and lively keys, as its name suggests this one goes and goes and goes.

Waking Season is the third full-length album from Beverly, MA post-rock quintet Caspian. The 10-song set was co-produced by Matt Bayles, former keyboard player from Minus the Bear and producer for such seminal albums as Isis’ Oceanic, Botch’s We Are Romans and Mastodon’s Blood Mountain. Waking Season is the follow-up to Caspian’s 2009 album Tertia. 2LP pressing from Triple Crown Records. Guitarist/keyboardist Philip Jamieson on working with Bayles, “We wanted to shake things up and work in a different type of environment, the kind of environment where it wasn’t just us calling the shots all the time. Working with someone who had the credibility to challenge the way we heard the songs outside of our own bubbles was extremely important to us for this record. Matt has a way of pulling the pieces together to make them sound crystal clear, sharp and balanced without removing any raw energy from a track. Working with him was a humbling and enlightening experience and we feel like it really benefited the album.”

A record label is arguably the fullest possible expression of an email account; fecund with attachments, download links, and unhealthy power dynamics primed to bloom into lifelong parasitic relationships. And even a cursory glance at the roster of label founders reveals the full spectrum of our potential as a species, from the absolute dregs of humanity to successful touring DJs.

Backed by a used CD billionaire and an angel investment from Major League Baseball's "New Voices in Techno" initiative, Perel's new label Hits Hits Hits! is poised to thrive amid a landscape littered with rivals with names like Sidechain Addict and Heuristics Audio.
And Perel is ready to put her music where her mouth is with "1 Life" the inaugural single in the imprint's catalog. We're well beyond chuffed to say that it's gained early support from promo list veteran Liquid Cory:
"Will the title track make any self-respecting 10-year-old 'Do the Detention Dance'? I've been told my opinions are culturally worthless, that I am the fit arbiter of nothing at all. So I feel grateful that there's also an extended version so I have more time to decide. And the remix by Canadian taste-haver Jex Opolis made me forget that my ex believed a rumour that I had choked to death bobbing for apples. Respect."

"La Misma Fuente" is an album that could have only come from the mind of Yemanjo, and the music here reveals producer/musician Ben Harris in the full bloom of his artistic promise.

Translating as "The Same Source", the staggering variety of genre, sound design and featured artists here all relate to the concept that the world's diversity manifests out of an essential unity.

With guest singers and musicians from Mali, Colombia, Argentina, Hungary and beyond, "La Misma Fuente" pulsates with an irresistible combination of cracking electronic beats, hypnotic synths and bass, traditional acoustic instruments and vocals in many languages.

In the title track, Yemanjo's own harmonized Spanish vocals roil over a relentless dembow groove; elsewhere Malian vocalist Mariam Koné shines in both the mid-tempo house track "Juru Fô" and the Reggae-meets-Desert Blues anthem "Janfa". The instrumentals are no less captivating; "Bululú" is a combustible club banger with shades of kuduro, afrohouse and zouk rhythms, "Suena La Quena" is a bouyant uptempo house track with soaring Andean flute melodies, "Baobab" mesmerizes with interlocking ngoni licks, and "Bridge to Bamako" is a spacious trip-hop groove that finishes the record like a breath of fresh air.

Thematically diverse, melodically complex and rhythmically compelling, "La Misma Fuente" is a testament to the relentless wanderlust of its author, and a fine addition to the already legendary catalogue of Wonderwheel Recordings.



Ben Harris: sound design, arrangement, vocals, charango, trumpet, digital percussion

Mariam Koné: vocals on #2, #6

Fredy Velasquez: vocals on #5

Alex Nero: guitar, charango on #7, charango, quena, zampoña on #9

Onanya: ngoni on #2

Cosmic Nomad: ngoni on #4

Julia Gyulai: lead vocals on #8, back vocals on #5

Endre Molnar: guitar on #8, back vocals on #5



Mixed and mastered by Chris Cox at Veritas Mastering

Additional record engineering by Akos Varnai

Plasma Color Vinyl. 'The way Bloomsday's Iris James Garrison writes songs feels like somewhere between a mirror and a memory. Spacious, full-bodied folk songs, they are an ode to things that are good no matter how small; they sometimes feel like the ghost of a Mary Oliver poem. Bloomsday's new record, 'Heart of the Artichoke', is a relic of unfettered creativity and community. They recount the miracles of the mundane, the memories that become sacred, an ode to all that is holy: nightswimming, songs plucked from the ether, the ways friendship can endure. Like earlier Bloomsday songs, the work here is threaded with warmth; it's simmering, crisp and deeply human, an encapsulation of the present moment. Recorded across 10 days in June 2023 in upstate New York at duo Babehoven's studio and co-produced by Babehoven's Ryan Albert, with mixing by Henry Stoehr of Slow Pulp. The record was built out with a wideranging group of collaborators, including inventive drumming from Andrew Stevens (Lomelda, Hovvdy), Alex Harwood, Richard Orofino, Babehoven's Maya Bon, Hannah Pruzinsky (h.pruz, Sister.), and Chris Daley. It was an insulated and collaborative experience: all family dinners on the back porch, bonfires, feeling a full sense of joy, of friendship, of purity in the artistic self. Collaboration is an integral part of Bloomsday's musical process. Garrison is malleable in the studio, their songwriting generous and spacious. But in listening to the record, there's a sense that Garrison leaves room for the players, for the listener; for songs to find the shapes they're meant to take. Garrison's role as maestro is crucial, singular - it's a collaborative, exploratory spirit harnessed by Garrison's intuition, and by an honest commitment to carve out creative space for play, to delve into what's known - or pushing past that, into unknown. "The ghosts of the past still come up and haunt me," Garrison says, "but I sit in what I have and see it. All of these songs are about loved ones, about personal struggles with getting out of my head and being present." Heart of the Artichoke was written from a healed, matured place - written in a moment of safety from chaos. It's a prayer for the present, an appreciation of tenderness and what happens once we give ourselves the space to really see, and really feel - becoming free and whole - an ode to the way healing allows us to bloom.

'The way Bloomsday's Iris James Garrison writes songs feels like somewhere between a mirror and a memory. Spacious, full-bodied folk songs, they are an ode to things that are good no matter how small; they sometimes feel like the ghost of a Mary Oliver poem. Bloomsday's new record, 'Heart of the Artichoke', is a relic of unfettered creativity and community. They recount the miracles of the mundane, the memories that become sacred, an ode to all that is holy: nightswimming, songs plucked from the ether, the ways friendship can endure. Like earlier Bloomsday songs, the work here is threaded with warmth; it's simmering, crisp and deeply human, an encapsulation of the present moment. Recorded across 10 days in June 2023 in upstate New York at duo Babehoven's studio and co-produced by Babehoven's Ryan Albert, with mixing by Henry Stoehr of Slow Pulp. The record was built out with a wideranging group of collaborators, including inventive drumming from Andrew Stevens (Lomelda, Hovvdy), Alex Harwood, Richard Orofino, Babehoven's Maya Bon, Hannah Pruzinsky (h.pruz, Sister.), and Chris Daley. It was an insulated and collaborative experience: all family dinners on the back porch, bonfires, feeling a full sense of joy, of friendship, of purity in the artistic self. Collaboration is an integral part of Bloomsday's musical process. Garrison is malleable in the studio, their songwriting generous and spacious. But in listening to the record, there's a sense that Garrison leaves room for the players, for the listener; for songs to find the shapes they're meant to take. Garrison's role as maestro is crucial, singular - it's a collaborative, exploratory spirit harnessed by Garrison's intuition, and by an honest commitment to carve out creative space for play, to delve into what's known - or pushing past that, into unknown. "The ghosts of the past still come up and haunt me," Garrison says, "but I sit in what I have and see it. All of these songs are about loved ones, about personal struggles with getting out of my head and being present." Heart of the Artichoke was written from a healed, matured place - written in a moment of safety from chaos. It's a prayer for the present, an appreciation of tenderness and what happens once we give ourselves the space to really see, and really feel - becoming free and whole - an ode to the way healing allows us to bloom.

Bloom is the 1997 album by Crustation, who were formed by Ian Dark, Stig Manley and Mark Tayler. All three were quiet connected in the fertile Bristol trip hop community - they played in bands with Portishead's Adrian Utley during the Eighties and regularly hung out with Massive Attack and Smith & Mighty. With just one album, their debut full-length record Bloom, Crustation became a legendary secret in the galaxy of trip hop music. The charming female voice of Bronagh Slevin, spacey, dreamy atmospheres, sleepy beats: all we love in downtempo music. The album features artwork co-designed by Stanley Donwood, who has created all the artwork designs for Radiohead with Tom Yorke. For the first time since its original release, Bloom is being reissued and is available as a limited edition of 750 copies on translucent purple coloured vinyl. The vinyl package includes an insert.

"Bloom is the 1997 album by Crustation, who were formed by Ian Dark, Stig Manley and Mark Tayler. All three were quiet connected in the fertile Bristol trip hop community - they played in bands with Portishead's Adrian Utley during the Eighties and regularly hung out with Massive Attack and Smith & Mighty. With just one album, their debut full-length record Bloom, Crustation became a legendary secret in the galaxy of trip hop music. The charming female voice of Bronagh Slevin, spacey, dreamy atmospheres, sleepy beats: all we love in downtempo music. The album features artwork co-designed by Stanley Donwood, who has created all the artwork designs for Radiohead with Tom Yorke. For the first time since its original release, Bloom is being reissued and is available as a limited edition of 750 copies on translucent purple coloured vinyl. The vinyl package includes an insert."

Bloom by Crustation With Bronagh Slevin, released 23 May 2024, includes the following tracks: "Close My Eyes ", "Reverie ", "Falling ", "Life As One " and more.

This version of Bloom comes as a 1xLP in a(n) Deluxe Sleeve packaging. This release comes with (a) Insert(s).

I Know I'm Funny haha is Webster's most realized manifestation yet of this emotional and musical alchemy. Continuing to bloom from her 2019 breakthrough and Secretly Canadian debut Atlanta Millionaires Club, Webster's sound draws as much from the lap-steel singer-songwriter pop of the 1970s and teardrop country tunes as it does from the audacious personalities of her city's rap and R&B community. The album began for Webster with the stirring ballad "In a Good Way," as in "You make me want to cry in a good way"_an instantclassic Faye Webster one-liner. It's beguilingly simple, the kind of melody and arrangement that seem to have existed forever. A sense of relief charges the neo-psychedelic pop of "Cheers," where Webster experiments with an overdriven guitar tone. She also collaborated, on "Overslept," with the Japanese artist Mei Ehara, who she calls the biggest influence on her new music. Webster's music is full of personality. Many of her songs contain bits of girl-group-esque talk-singing, which color her atypical storysongs. Webster says she's in a growth mindset, pushing herself to learn more, to be more vulnerable. "Growth is really important to me," she says. "I hope people will relate to my songs, and not just be like `this is a good record' but `this makes me feel something. This is making me think differently, this is making me question things.' I told myself a few years ago that I was going to be more honest in my songwriting, that honesty is the best route to take with music. If I have a voice and people are listening to me, I'm not going to waste it."

"For his fourth full length album, we see the proficiency of instrumentalist and composer Prins Emanuel in full bloom as he turns head deep into the techniques he established on the preceding outing of Diagonal Musik. Here, he revisit what he refers to as a diagonal approach in composing; i.e. starting at one point and then moving to the farthest point in the process, as a way for him to connect the dots somewhere in the middle, or - like I previously described it for the liner notes of that album - “something akin to drawing only shadows and then finishing with the contours”.
And in the tradition of great sequels, this is a much larger and intricate production. While relying on the guitar as a formative backbone to many songs, the layering of brass and woodwinds houses these compositions in bold and sharply lit structures. Mallets and percussion adds an air of momentum but also grounds these tracks in earthy hues.
Thawed and gracious, Diagonal Musik II in essence creates a space that bridges the various paths of Prins Emanuel’s musical universe. At once post-minimalist and avant garde in nature while also peeking through the door at both IDM and folk music, the lingering sensation is that of a well balanced palate that doesn’t break under the presence of repetition. Enveloped in a fourth world approach to jazz and incorporating the more contemplative side of post punk or art pop, there is a story hidden in here that gives cause to the appropriation of these influences.
The inherent warmth of certain instruments play their part in this story. Emanuel often builds on the notion of ‘organic music’ but broadens the definition via subtle electronic enhancements that sit naturally alongside their acoustic counterparts. Take for instance the voice emulator sequence that opens “Kadens Tre” and is dashed on by guitar slides and flute drills to roll further down a hill of staccato percussion. A few tracks in, the lines are so blurred it becomes a natural state until the harsh and eerie sample loops of closing track “Östan Vind” finally breaks the spell. ”

After 7 studio albums with both Secretly Canadian and Western Vinyl Records over the last 20+ years, Early Day Miners have returned with their latest offering, and their first with Solid Brass Records, titled Outside Lies Magic. Early Day Miners' surroundings have always been reflected in their sound. Their early compositions, while in Bloomington, IN, mirrored the seemingly inescapable expanse of the Midwest. Now based in New Orleans their sound has yielded a subtle but correlative shift in the band. Outside Lies Magic offers an audible lightness. Most notably Dan Burton’s voice, once hushed and at times hesitant, is now full-bodied and sure; his heart, once tenuously carried on his sleeve, is now firmly in his throat. And though this might be the leanest the lineup has been, they are focused and warm, exuding the maximalism of their new home with nuance and a laissez-faire approach. Early Day Miners sound as unhurried as ever, but never aimless; Early Day Miners have finally arrived.

After 7 studio albums with both Secretly Canadian and Western Vinyl Records over the last 20+ years, Early Day Miners have returned with their latest offering, and their first with Solid Brass Records, titled Outside Lies Magic. Early Day Miners' surroundings have always been reflected in their sound. Their early compositions, while in Bloomington, IN, mirrored the seemingly inescapable expanse of the Midwest. Now based in New Orleans their sound has yielded a subtle but correlative shift in the band. Outside Lies Magic offers an audible lightness. Most notably Dan Burton’s voice, once hushed and at times hesitant, is now full-bodied and sure; his heart, once tenuously carried on his sleeve, is now firmly in his throat. And though this might be the leanest the lineup has been, they are focused and warm, exuding the maximalism of their new home with nuance and a laissez-faire approach. Early Day Miners sound as unhurried as ever, but never aimless; Early Day Miners have finally arrived.

One of New Zealand’s fastest-rising electronic producers, Sanoi aka Jonas Fischer announces the release of his new album, ‘Echoes Of Home’. Rooted in melodic house and techno, the album is a journey through electronic music, one that is as at home on the dancefloor as it is on headphones.  Having previously released on labels such as Bar 25, Stil Vor Talent, Beat & Path, Magician On Duty, Sounds Of Sin and Tube & Berger’s Zehn Records, Loop are proud to present Sanoi’s second full-length. The New Zealand-based, German-born producer has crafted deeply personal electronic music that pushes the boundaries of creativity, skill and production techniques, while influenced by organic deep house and electronic techno from Berlin.  Created at his home in Auckland, and road tested across countless live performances across New Zealand and Australia over the past two years, ‘Echoes Of Home’ sees Sanoi’s songwriting step up to another level. Constantly developing as an artist and finding expression through music are some of the key factors that drive him, whether it be in the studio or behind the decks. His deeply danceable, meticulous though mischievous DJ sets see him move seamlessly across warm, melodic, groove-driven techno and beyond.  Featuring vocals by Beacon Bloom on ‘Silver’.

Following her contribution to this Spring’s Gudu & Friends Vol. 1 compilation, Lady Blacktronika steps out with a full EP for Peggy Gou’s Gudu label.

Whether operating as Lady Blacktronika or her Femanyst alias, Akua Grant has built a deserved reputation as one of house and techno’s most daring and unique artists - one that dates back 25 years now, when she first debuted as a vocalist.

“House and techno” can be a cliched catch-all term, but in Grant’s case, she really has explored the extremes of both sides. Her early Lady Blacktronika work, when she earned the nickname The First Lady of Beatdown, saw her produce and narrate a style of deep house that was both sensitive and transgressive, while as Femanyst, she explores some of techno’s darkest corners, all distorted kicks and serrated edges.

Her EP for Gudu kicks off with some serious intent: ‘Baby I Got It’ chops its vocals rough and raw, pairing them with marching drums and the sort of idiosyncratic synth-work that feels like a Blacktronika signature at this point. ‘Sing the Blues’ and ‘Hold My Hand’ take things smoother, but without ever deferring to type — as ever with Grant’s music, she works with such sleight of hand that it’s easy to skip back three minutes previous and wonder how the hell we got here. Her tracks are just that hypnotic and hallucinatory.

Closing the EP, Octo Octa provides a remix of ‘Hold My Hand’ that extends things to a full 12 minutes (note: slightly shorter on the vinyl due to time constraints), taking us out with crushed percs and held pads over some undeniable drum work.

This EP marks the final release of Gudu’s busiest year to date, with music on the label in 2023 coming from Special Request, Matisa, Mogwaa, Hiver, Matrefakt, DMX Krew, Dukwa, Brain de Palma, Lady Blacktronika, Salamanda and Closet Yi.

All true improvisation involves an element of chance: the coming together of a nexus of influences impulses and actions that result in spontaneous creation. Often in the world of jazz these creative sparks blaze briefly in performance, and then disappear as the sonic vibrations fade from the air, but sometimes chance intervenes again, and moments thought to be gone forever can resurface in unexpected ways. As master drummer Jeff Williams sorted through his archive of cassette tapes from his extensive international career, he had no idea that hidden within it would be a recording of a 1991 evening when he joined storied NYC legend David Liebman for a set of spontaneous performances. Reunited together fifteen years after the breakup of their seminal band Lookout Farm in 1976, the two players reaffirmed their deep musical bond with a set of free-flowing exploratory dialogues in front of a receptive audience. Believed lost for many years, these performances can now be experienced again, with all their fearless freshness and pure committed musicianship undimmed by the passage of time.

Jeff Williams has established a formidable reputation as a drummer, composer, educator and bandleader on both sides of the Atlantic. His relationship with Liebman was forged in the exciting, expansive atmosphere of the New York scene in the early 70s: the meeting of Williams, the laid back Midwesterner, and Liebman, the mercurial, quintessential New Yorker, was an inspired coming together of opposites that always made the creative sparks fly. Williams remembers the journey that led to the Bar Room 432 on that 1991 evening:

“Just as I was leaving my home town of Oberlin, Ohio to move to New York City in 1971, I was given David Liebman’s phone number by someone who told me that Dave had started an organisation for jazz musicians there. I knew of Dave, from Ten Wheel Drive and John McLaughin’s My Goals Beyond, but I couldn’t have imagined what a significant role he would play in my musical life. Shortly afterwards, Dave would leave Elvin Jones and Miles Davis to start his own band, with Richie Beirach, Frank Tusa, and myself, (later adding Badal Roy), naming it Lookout Farm. We released two albums on ECM and one on A&M to wide critical acclaim, and toured across Europe, Japan, India and the US.”

“Following the dissolution of Lookout Farm, Dave and I embarked on a short duo tour opening for Gary Burton. That would be the last time the two of us would play until the occasion of this recording, fifteen years later.”

“Fast forward to 1991 when I discovered an attractive bar located on the far West Side of 14th Street in Manhattan. Bar Room 432 would become a six night a week jazz club for a few years, providing me, and many others, with the opportunity to perform our music. Catching wind of this, Dave suggested we do a duo performance there.”

“Luckily, I recorded it.There was no preparation, no set music to be played - we simply improvised, picking up where we’d left off. David’s mastery of the soprano saxophone is in full bloom here, as well as his incredibly resourceful musical mind.”

The performances are revelatory, moving in pure improvisation from clear, songlike melody to furious density, from ambience to pulsing groove, from light into darkness and back again. Cleaned up and remastered by Alex Bonney, the sound of the tape captures the warm, wood-lined ambience of the room, allowing the full power and dynamics of William’s drums and the warmth and fullness of Liebmans’ soprano sax to sing out, engaging the contemporary listener just as it engaged the hip Manhattan crowd thirty three years ago.

MRG223LP is black vinyl in a jacket + printed sleeve + printed insert for full album download. File Under: Alternative. In 2003, everything broke open for Ward with the release of Transfiguration of Vincent. Critically lauded and long beloved, Pitchfork hailed it as an album that “broadcasts timelessness and defies genre constraints,” and Slant placed it on their list of the best albums of the 2000s.

On Transfiguration of Vincent, Ward’s elegant fingerpicking, evocative croon, and heartrending lyricism came into full bloom, casting a spell so powerful that even a song as universal as David Bowie’s “Let’s Dance” felt not only new but irrevocably his.

One of the most cherished albums in the Merge catalog, Transfiguration of Vin- cent is both a great place to begin your love affair with M. Ward and a deep, stunningly realized work that listeners have returned to over and over again for 20 years. Tracklisting: SIDE A. 1 Transfiguration No. 1 2. Vincent O’Brien 3. Sad, Sad Song 4. Undertaker 5. Duet for Guitars No. 3 6. Outta My Head 7. Involuntary. SIDE B. 8. Helicopter 9. Poor Boy, Minor Key 10. Fool Says 11. Get to the Table on Time 12. A Voice at the End of the Line 13. Dead Man 14. Let’s Dance 15. Transfiguration No. 2

plastic death - the second album by glass beach - is a follow-up record almost five years in the making. The band's 2019 debut, aptly titled the first glass beach album , has over the years grown a cult fanbase for its unflinching depiction of queer life as mediated through social media, its oversized ambition, and its scrappy yet adventurous production. And while it took some time to arrive, plastic death sounds like the logical expansion of all the things that made their first album so special. Years and years of relentless writing, tinkering demos, cancelled tours and a few lockdowns only strengthen the chaotic core of what makes glass beach' s maximalist approach work so well. Frontperson and primary songwriter J McClendon is joined by lead guitarist Layne Smith, bassist Jonas Newhouse and drummer William White to create something adventurous on each song. Trumpet, trombone, violin, and even marimba dance and bloom alongside the band's own creative and dextrous instrumentation - a stunning, transformative creation that pulls from indie rock, jazz, prog, hardcore, metal, experimental, and beyond. Songs like lead single "the CIA," are examples of the band's ambitious writing. It's a dark, dancy, post-punk/jazz hybrid, a coordinated, breathless braid of synth and saturated guitar. Tension and confusion explode into a brutal modern metal climax to close the track, flickering with glitchy production zaps and razor-sharp stops. The artwork of plastic death is similarly rich with detail, resulting in a bioluminescent, fully-realized double album depicting sprawling scenes where moments of neon brightness shine momentarily in a dark undersea - a metaphor for the moments of optimism and catharsis glass beach provide on these songs. "This album is the Pacific garbage patch: cultural trash strewn together seemingly by accident, standing in stark juxtaposition to each other ," says McClendon. plastic death is a complete, uncompromising, playful work of art; every corner and crevice of the record's 13 tracks, each arrangement and timbre and texture, is alive with intention and possibility.

plastic death - the second album by glass beach - is a follow-up record almost five years in the making. The band's 2019 debut, aptly titled the first glass beach album , has over the years grown a cult fanbase for its unflinching depiction of queer life as mediated through social media, its oversized ambition, and its scrappy yet adventurous production. And while it took some time to arrive, plastic death sounds like the logical expansion of all the things that made their first album so special. Years and years of relentless writing, tinkering demos, cancelled tours and a few lockdowns only strengthen the chaotic core of what makes glass beach' s maximalist approach work so well. Frontperson and primary songwriter J McClendon is joined by lead guitarist Layne Smith, bassist Jonas Newhouse and drummer William White to create something adventurous on each song. Trumpet, trombone, violin, and even marimba dance and bloom alongside the band's own creative and dextrous instrumentation - a stunning, transformative creation that pulls from indie rock, jazz, prog, hardcore, metal, experimental, and beyond. Songs like lead single "the CIA," are examples of the band's ambitious writing. It's a dark, dancy, post-punk/jazz hybrid, a coordinated, breathless braid of synth and saturated guitar. Tension and confusion explode into a brutal modern metal climax to close the track, flickering with glitchy production zaps and razor-sharp stops. The artwork of plastic death is similarly rich with detail, resulting in a bioluminescent, fully-realized double album depicting sprawling scenes where moments of neon brightness shine momentarily in a dark undersea - a metaphor for the moments of optimism and catharsis glass beach provide on these songs. "This album is the Pacific garbage patch: cultural trash strewn together seemingly by accident, standing in stark juxtaposition to each other ," says McClendon. plastic death is a complete, uncompromising, playful work of art; every corner and crevice of the record's 13 tracks, each arrangement and timbre and texture, is alive with intention and possibility.

Die-cut sleeve. In the fall of 2013 Bry Webb was putting the finishing touches on his second album Free Will. Released on May 20th 2014, Bry, with his newly assembled band The Providers, spent the following few years traversing North America playing clubs, festivals and storied stages such as Toronto’s Massey Hall. Nothing new for an artist who had spent the aughts in a constant state of motion with Constantines, a band who on average had performed one of every three nights on a stage somewhere in the world. In fact, running in parallel to Bry’s solo touring schedule was a reunion with his former Constantines’ bandmates to once again present their incendiary live show and celebrate the 11th anniversary reissue of the band’s Shine A Light. It is what happened as the decade wound down that seemed out of character for an artist who had spent close to 20 years immersed in the studio and on the stage: the music stopped altogether. Bry explains his feelings at that time, “I lost the musical plot about 5 years ago and stopped playing music entirely, sold instruments and recording equipment, and committed myself to the idea that I was absolutely done”. Webb dedicated himself to his ongoing work in community radio, months turned to years and musical life seemed to be all but gone from view. Now in an unexpected turnaround 10 years on from the recording of his last studio album, there is not only a return to the stage for Bry but also a new record. Primarily composed in a season of upheaval, Run With Me contains some of Bry’s rawest sentiments. Fresh and painfully present there is an immediacy one can hear as emotional walls collapse in real time. Bry explains the context of the album’s creation: “In early 2023 my personal life exploded. In the process of dealing with that, I started writing music again and started recording at home. Advised that I needed to figure out how to ask for, and accept, help from other people, I sent early recordings of songs to friends from twenty-five years of music making - many folks I hadn’t connected with in years - and asked if they’d contribute anything to the songs. People came through in ways that overwhelmed me to the point that I cried when I wrote out the list of players for the liner notes. I felt incredibly cared for. From Andy Magoffin, who recorded the first Constantines album in 1999, to members of the Cons, to my nieces Addy and Ella playing drums, and a doppler recording of my daughter’s heartbeat, the record is a document of my creative life, and the people who made it possible to make music again.” If the cover of Run With Me looks familiar, it is with full intent. The album’s technicolor marbling and die cut text serve to signal the inclusion of the album in a trilogy started with Bry’s first record Provider. Just as that album starts with the track Asa, this new one introduces itself with the instrumental Webb. The trilogy is now completed with his daughter's first, middle and last names represented as the first tracks on each of the three albums. While the LP’s package signals its place in the collection, and tracks such as Older Than The Dirt and What I Do revisit their predecessor’s familiar sonic starkness, Run With Me is the outlier of the trio. A number of new tracks forego the quietude of Provider and Free Will, clearly recalling the rallying rhythms of Constantines’ anthems. Thunder Bay (instrumental backing courtesy of The Harbourcoats circa 2009), with its insistent kick drum and wall of electrics, support one of Webb’s most indelible melodies, and the not so subtly psychedelic Modern Mind reveal an expansion of Webb’s palette. Perhaps the furthest afield is the contextual centerpiece of the album, Goodbye, where we not only hear a joyful voice that lay dormant for years, but hear it reclaim its power. Backed by Constantines’ Will Kidman, Doug MacGregor and Dallas Wehrle, Bry belts out “I’m through with all the rage, now watch the light pour out of me.” As with all of Bry’s work, Run With Me’s lyrics take their time to settle in. Songs of self-examination, reconfigured love ballads, and songs for those who work to help others. Songs of singing abound. It’s there in Older Than The Dirt’s second verse: "Logic to the last intention, logic in the way we kept holding on forever, singing as the floor- was swept”, ten thousand birds sing a warning song in Thunder Bay and again in Goodbye’s telling of a cathartic return to one’s true self with its celebration of those “Who sing - sing all joy - all joy of language, in a single word”. Joining Bry in singing Run With Me’s songs of “death, transition and hope,” are kindred spirits Jennifer Castle, Julie Doiron, Daniel Romano and Steph Yates. All of these singers elevate the album’s healing sentiments and help express the album’s central plea; a prayer of sorts wrapped in the traditional Scottish Gaelic melody of She Is Here’s second verse: “Let the sun rise in the morning and any witness bring. Let all the blooming cosmos teach us to sing”.

Mount Maxwell returns with another full-length journey into memory, melody, and geography - this time roaming beyond the BC environs of his previous records into a stranger, less knowable country. While still woozily nostalgic in the vein of Only Children and The People’s Forest, this outing feels more exploratory and wide ranging in scope, with a denser mixture of influences at play. The somnambulistic drift of Sea of Milk sets the stage with a series of wavering synth pulses that push us languidly toward land, eventually setting us down on the sands of Maze Crete, where a shadowy latticework of hand drums, flutes and synths await. From there we ascend to the aptly named Sky Eye, a rolling mixture of acoustic beats and analog string machines that gives us our first bird’s eye view of the album’s landscape. A Long Road pushes the acoustic instrumentation further, with shimmering tambourine marking time for a collection of hand drums and shakers, while Ages summons up an occult-like dream of glacial arpeggios and whispering synths. Slow Moves and Tree Motion float effortlessly along on beds of lazy congas and woodblocks before finally giving way to the title track - a heady juggernaut of distorted synths and trundling rhythms that propels us through the album’s second half like a locomotive through darkening hills. Drawing the record to a close, the gently repeating keyboard phrase of Mist blooms unexpectedly into a rainbow of human voices before evaporating into the oceanic swells of Hi Traveller. And there Littlefolk leaves us as it found us; adrift in a rolling sea.

London based multidisciplinary artist and DAYTIMERS internal team member Zar (Arun) is returning once again in 2023, this time on The Tabula Rasa Record Company, to release his second EP: “Unfurl”.

It is the next expression of progression in sound for Zar, a movement further into, above and beyond the foundations laid down from his debut EP “Practice Makes Miracles” - which was listed on Bandcamps’ “Best Electronic Music of March 2023” and described by DJ Mag as “a striking solo debut that sets Zar out as an exciting prospect in the sphere of electronic composition.”

Sitting at that murky midpoint between UK Garage, Tech-House & Bass, the songs literally bloom outwardly, wrapping around the listener leaving trails of familiarity, and feature the tendrils of earworm worthy melodies that strike a balance between serene, uplifting, dense and thoughtful, all whilst resting upon deep thumping drums, clever vocal sampling and unconventional song structures. As a follow up to an already ambitious debut EP, Unfurl is an incredibly full-filling listen.

Flora Yin Wong’s ravishing interiority finds lucid expression on an absorbing second album for Modern Love, manifesting her instrumental storytelling in a syncretic bind of supernatural themes with hyperrealist, concrète sound design.

Through ten parts, Flora crystallises the ennui that followed an uncanny, disorienting trip to East and Southeast Asia. “On an unexpected stopover in Hong Kong after five years away, my friends took me to a Bazi reader one night - something I was curious about, but much of a ritual for them - ” Flora recalls. “My father told me that when I was born, he had obtained an auspicious reading that since stayed like a guiding talisman with me. It was almost past midnight but people were still lined up, rather shaken and visibly upset, to see the old man. He had kind eyes and asked me why I was there and I said I was at a crossroads. He asked me my time and date of birth, and told me to pick one of his four little white canary birds as a vessel for divination.”

This was the final stretch of an ultimately aimless few months across the continent, including a 20 year overdue return with her father to his adoptive family in his hometown Kuala Lumpur - for many reasons, ended up as a strange and uncanny trip. She spent solitude in a haunted house during the quiet snowfall of Kyoto, where she might have offended some spirit... and nights in mountain temples with South Korean monks, and an equally strange feeling return to the Island of the Gods.

“It culminated in what felt like a final disillusionment with Asia - sudden deaths and a breakdown in beliefs - somewhere I never really have or will be able to connect with. The process of the reading summoned a final blow to my gut - an overwhelming sense of rootlessness, and understanding that all there is is emptiness and entropy. No birth-divined protection, just a measurement of the night sky based off nothing and everything.”

Heavy with a sense of nightmarish dissociation and grief, Flora read about Giuseppe Tartini’s ‘Violin Sonata in G Minor’, aka the Devil’s Trill Sonata, a notoriously tricky c.18th composition which attempted to transcribe music heard in a dream, which the composer felt he could never fully bring into reality. It’s this soporific motif that binds and underpins ’Cold Reading’, finding Flora chasing the dragon of fleeting fantasy through passages of etched melancholy, pinched with hypnagogic jerks that linger in the memory.

From her use of the ‘Devil’s Trill’ Sonata in ‘All My Dreams are Nightmares’ through evocations of subtropical humidity in the Bryn Jones-esque, resonant hand-played percussion of ‘Konna’ and ‘Banjar’, to a breathtaking dreampop denouement ‘Nectar Dripping’ and the Enya-like lush of ‘Beautiful Crisis’, Flora blooms her ideas with an openended ambiguity so often missing from so called Ambient music, ushering the listener into a soundworld that disturbs and displaces, just as much as it calms.

Malian and French pair Siraba unveil their much-anticipated self-titled debut LP on Damian Lazarus’ Secret Teachings label, a 10-track odyssey fusing Mali’s rich musical traditions with cutting-edge electronic music.

Malian hunter Boubacar Samake and Damien Vandesande, one half of the French electronic band dOP, have won plenty of plaudits for the early singles taken from their debut album as duo Siraba. Those singles, spanning across the summer months, have found the pair bring the traditional sound of the Wassoulou - a river valley of West Africa - to the electronic world after 20 years of friendship. The music comes with an important underlying message of love and respect and results in spellbinding tracks that move heart, body and soul, finding a perfect home on Secret Teachings - a left-of-centre alternative label to Lazarus’ celebrated and often more club- focused Crosstown Rebels. With the arrival of the full album, the pair exhibit and showcase the emotional breadth and depth of their music, with detailed explorations of organic textures and native sounds merged with future-focused ideas and concepts.

The title track opens with an atmospheric mix of spoken words and spine-tingling chords that bring rich Afro flavours, while ‘Dounoiia’ is a languid groove made from hand drums and pixelated synth leads that cast a fine spell. The slow-blooming ‘Bani’ brings rich Malian blues and melancholic horns, while ‘Komafly’ is a rich mix of acoustic strings and broken beats that transports you to a hot and dusty landscape. A vital component of the sounds of the Wassoulou, the indigenous stringed instrument the Ngoni features again on the rousing ‘Nanse’ as spiritual vocals sung in Bambara rouse the soul.

‘Djandjo’ is another rich infusion of Malian culture with simmering electronics to make for something both ancient sounding yet futuristic, and the hypnotic ‘Ngana Fôlly’ with its rich bass is a song ‘dedicated to those who fight for the well-being of their families, for unity... a song for the people who also fight a great disease, between life and death’. The sublime ‘Toro’ is a wavy groove perfect for sundown - a deep and inviting sound rich in soulful vocals and dreamy melodies, while ‘Tolonawoulile’ is driven by the intense strumming of the Ngoni with busy hand claps and hurried drums and last of all ‘Fo Te Mokobana’ sinks into a heart-warming slow groove with sweeping strings and Malian percussion all overlaid with impassioned vocals.

A rich listening experience, Siraba’s debut album is an immersive journey and absorbing dive into the minds of two artists breaking new grounds while spotlighting native traditions and musical techniques spanning hundreds of years.

Here's the thing about ill peach: this band exists because they are too weird to not exist. The seed of ill peach was first planted in the recording studios of New York City where Pat Morrissey and Jess Corazza were working together as professional songwriters, collaborating with artists like Icona Pop, SZA, Weezer, Pharrell, Big Freedia, and others. Then came the day they were offered their own publishing deal. Cool, right? Well, about that: "Everyone kept saying, 'The stuff that you're writing is slightly too left-of-center-weirdo stuff," remembers Morrissey. "Why don't you start your own project?" Thus ill peach, a pop band with a punk streak and a taste for both the rotten and the sweet, with an approach to making music that goes something like: "Do you want to pick up a guitar and do you want to be on this water jug and we'll record it on the iPhone and create some weird drum pattern?" Following a series of well-received EPs on their own Pop Can Records (a record label and artist collective Morrissey and close collaborator Jesse Schuster run with friends), a digital single for Hardly Art's 15th anniversary series, and some colorful music videos that crystallized the band's visual aesthetic along with their sound, ill peach's "weirdo stuff" comes to fruition on first full-length THIS IS NOT AN EXIT: a collection of anthemic songs built out of bright pop and gritty experimental elements (Morrissey names the sculptural use of distortion on the final albums by Low as an inspiration), punctuated with hooky choruses ready to be screamed along to in the safety of your own bedroom or with a bunch of friends at one of ill peach's intense live shows. If ill peach first blossomed in New York, it took quarantine in Los Angeles for the project to ripen. The end of the world turned out to be what ill peach needed to get real with themselves. "It helped us creatively to zone in and removed us from the industry side of things to where we could just be like: this is our new identity, let's jump with both feet." THIS IS NOT AN EXIT's title is a reflection of something Corazza realized during a period of personal and familial crises "I kept walking into buildings and I'd try to exit somewhere and the sign would be like, 'This is not an exit,'" she says. "It just felt like a metaphor for a hopeful thing-don't give up yet." This combination of hope and anxiety is all over THIS IS NOT AN EXIT, reflected in a sonic palette (Alternative! Electronica! Indie! Radio pop! Coldplay!) as eclectic as it is unpretentious. Ultimately, THIS IS NOT AN EXIT is a record about healing, a process often spoken about in New Age-y terms but one that in reality can be really confusing and, yes, weird. But it is the beautiful strangeness of being alive that ill peach capture so well on THIS IS NOT AN EXIT.

Repress!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stockholm based The Nomads have always stood out from other garage rock revivalists because of
the intensity of their performances and the wide range of their influences, which extend beyond the
usual ’60s bands. The mini-LP Where the Wolf Bane Blooms still sounds as vital and exciting as it did
in 1983. 40 years down the road we celebrate this underground classic with a remastered reissue full
of extra goodies from one of the toughest bands to walk the planet

stillness, softness... erkundet eine neue Soundpalette in Omoris Welt analoger Synthesizer: ihren Prophet '08, den Moog Voyager und UDO Super 6, einen analogen Hybrid-Synthesizer, der binauralen, 3D-simulierenden Klang erzeugt. stillness, softness... 'eine Collage aus Experimenten', die sie dann 'wie ein Puzzle' zusammensetzt, wobei jedes Lied einen Erinnerungsraum darstellt. Das Endergebnis ist nahtlos, ein kontinuierlicher Zyklus von 13 ineinander fließenden Vignetten, die zwischen ihrem Schlafzimmer in London und dem Haus ihrer Großmutter in Yokohama, Japan, entstanden. Das Album ist generell Omoris bisher zugänglichstes Werk und zeigt ihre wahre Bandbreite als Komponistin, Künstlerin, Arrangeurin, Sängerin und Synthesizer-Virtuosin.

When South Korean balearic prodigy Mogwaa came to MM Discos with an idea for his rst full-length album, we were a bit surprised.
He said, ‘I want to do an album of bossa tracks with synths, a drum machine and my guitar’. We obviously had to take him up
on that deal.

Fresh from the recent Bandcamp feature on his own brand of danceoor-ready modern boogie, Seungyoung Lee (aka Mogwaa)
arrives back on MM Discos with his - and our - rst full length exercise. With six tracks per side of 80s inuenced synth and bossa
badness, ‘Hazy Dreams’ is an exercise in simplicity, and more proof of the ever-expanding musical horizons of one of the scene’s
most virtuosic instrumentalists.

Pairing a sensitivity to the construction of ambient, funk, bossa and cassette-tape 80s experiments with his own cinematic subtlety,
‘Hazy Dreams’ takes a gentle, minimalistic approach, crafting its own escapist world that oers a welcome diversion from the
steady ow of busy balearica and downtempo.

Opening track ‘Full Bloom’ paints a picture of midsummer at dawn, some clear-skied island where lush vegetation climbs through
hibiscus gardens. ‘Nacimiento’ is an AOR/bossa crossover evoking West Coast yachting in full afternoon, and A3, ‘Soothing’, adds
a touch of wistfulness with reverb-doused guitars over meandering bass motifs.
The easy kick-and-snare combo of ‘Levitation’ sets the scene for a drum machine love aair, unrequited love on the rocks, and
‘Flashback’ plays with short delay trails and o-kilter melodic sequences, where you feel the soft presence of the nebula approaching
at the break of day. Closing out the A-side, ‘Dispatching’ reaches out even further into the imagined cosmos of Mogwaa’s
picture-perfect world, portraying an ambience at dusk, observing, calmy, as pued-up pink clouds melt into the evening canvas.
On the other side, Mogwaa explores quiet corners with ‘Illusions’, a slow meditation on the nature of simple presence, and ‘Echoes
of You’, a stream of subdued brush strokes that crescendo into higher frequencies on gently undulating pads. B3, ‘Moondance’,
ups the tempo and recalls classic Mogwaa with its sideways shue and starry melodic refrain, pivoting through folk-dance
moods and surprising chord changes.
Nearing the end of the album, ‘Footprints’ wades through tall grass in search of altered states, innite and hypnotic, changing
course only to crouch down and study the landscape, and B5, ‘It always comes and goes’, pictures the to-and-fro of jetstreams and
comets in the blinding midday sky. Finally we have the closing credits of ‘Swingin’ that looks o into the horizon, jaunty and exalted,
a guitar-led tribute to an easy-going world, and ultimately mindful of the power of dreams.
We’re humbled to have such a special record for our rst full-length release on the label.

"If you can imagine a love child between MAC DEMARCO and SPAR-KLEHORSE, then this would be what you're left with." - SO YOUNG MAGA-ZINE
Raised in North Queensland, Australia, Jarrod Mahon is not one to shy away from bold new endeavors. Once parting ways with his previous record label in 2019, Mahon chose to go fully independent, relocating to Berlin in 2019 (where he still resides), despite having no contacts at all in the country. What’s more, having recorded/performed under the pseudonym Emerson Snowe for over a decade - during which time he home-recorded five albums and 13 EP’s, toured with the likes of King Krule or Ariel Pink, played showcases SXSW and the Great Escape, the works - Mahon took that brave, most uncommercial decision to release under his own name and start almost totally anew.
“There was never really a concept to that name Emerson Snowe other than having some kind of separation from who I was as a person,” Mahon explains, “using a moniker gave me that confidence to push myself further mentally and to give myself some kind of a freedom”. And through the process of creating what would become his debut album, Mahon saw that he had outgrown the need for this protective persona. ‘Everything Has A Life’ was meant to be the debut Snowe album”, he admits, “but after I finished mixing it with Syd Kemp, co-producer I realized that I had actually grown a lot and was much more comfort-able with who I am and what my personal beliefs are.”
The choice of ‘Everything Has A Life’ as the album title, pulled from beauteous opening track ‘All I Know’, neatly summarizes this new outlook: moving on from ‘self-pity’ of the past-self by becoming present for the loved ones around you, improving understanding of one’s own self, via the wider world at large.
That track marks the first written during a lockdown stint in LA where Mahon wrote and recorded every day for 2 months, produced nigh on 250 demos and birthed the bulk of the record. It also brought Mahon back to his all-time favorite, Sufjan Stevens’ Ilinois and its blend of widescreen orchestral landscapes and more candid, naked acoustic-leaning variations - an important influence for the album's stylistic contrasts. Another key inspiration for the record too brought Mahon back to his roots - those full-bloom strains of his Mum’s Beloved Neil Diamond, an annual Christmas irritant to Mahon as a child, yet an artist he’s come to respect in adulthood. “Whatever the reason, with age I came to love the big show band sounds,” he says, “the idea of a performer on stage with a mas-sive orchestra with strings was amazing to me.”
With the help of producer Syd Kemp (Ulrika Spacek, Vanishing Twin), such grand designs could be met. - “When we first met, he asked me if I would like real strings on it. I said of course.” Enter Magda Mclean on violin (Caroline/the Umlauts), and Gamaliel Rendle Traynor on Cello (Sweat, Fat White Family), whose strings helped lift the record to romantic new heights.
He continues: “I said to Syd that the only thing I wanted to achieve with this rec-ord was that I wanted it to make me cry at one point. And we got there eventual-ly.” The final culmination of all these strands, ’Everything Has A Life’ is indeed a treasure trove of emotive riches. Locking into that bittersweet, quintessentially ‘pop’ combination of triumphant rhythms and confessional, stream-of-consciousness lyrics plucked straight from the heart, Mahon faces up to years of substance abuse with a series of gorgeous, blushing melodies: “I was using, I was drinking, I was lying to my friends, I was messing up again, I was hiding from myself”, he joyously chants on ‘The Growing’.
A banquet fit for an indie king, Everything Has A Life is loaded with psych-pop lusciousness (‘All I Know’) and anthemic glam fuzz (‘Death Of The Ladies Man’, ‘Deadstar’, or ‘Sonny is my Best Friend’); recalling that foundational Sufjan Ste-vens influence too with shambling flecks of country (‘Charly (Romantic Heart)’). There’s also those lo-fi crepitations of ‘My Man’ and ‘I can’t’ harking back home-recorded demos that lie at the core of Mahon’s creative process.

Julian Cannonball Adderley's only Blue Note album, Somethin' Else, would likely forever be famous in music lore if just for the presence of Miles Davis. The iconic composer/trumpeter steps into the role of sideman on the 1958 set, one of just a handful of times he'd make such a move after the calendar passed the mid-1950s. Yet evaluating Somethin' Else strictly on Davis' involvement misses the big picture. Plain and simple, Adderley's jubilant work remains a jazz landmark due to the chemistry of its Hall of Fame personnel, enthusiasm of its participants, and sophistication of its arrangements – not to mention the reference-grade production and inclusion of the definitive renditions of two all-time jazz standards.

Limited to 6,000 numbered copies, pressed on dead-quiet MoFi SuperVinyl at RTI, and mastered from the original master tapes, Mobile Fidelity's ultra-hi-fi UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP collector's edition pays tribute to the record's merit and includes the bonus track "Allison's Uncle." Offering reference-calibre sonics, this spectacular collector's version provides a clear, transparent, ultra-dynamic, and up-close view of a cornerstone effort that witnesses Adderley and Davis sharing horn duty alone for the only time in their fabled careers – an arrangement that occurred as a result of Adderley having joined Davis' majestic sextet a year prior.

The premium packaging and beautiful presentation of the UD1S Somethin' Else pressing befit its extremely select status. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendour of the recording. No expense has been spared. Aurally and visually, this UD1S reissue exists as a curatorial artefact meant to be preserved, touched, and examined. It is made for discerning listeners that prize sound quality and production, and who desire to fully immerse themselves in the art – and everything involved with the album, from the iconic photos to the gorgeous finishes.

The vibrant potency reveals itself openly on an analogue set that provides full-range reproduction of an ensemble that also includes pianist Hank Jones, bassist Sam Jones, and drummer Art Blakey. Each and every snare hit, downbeat, and cymbal splash registered by the latter take on realistic proportions, blooming and decaying as they would right in front of you on a stage. Jones' foundational bass lines register with uncommon depth and palpability, the litheness of the strings and fullness of the instrument epitomizing the definition of rhythm. Stellar, too, are the surefooted 88s. Sublime in scale, tonality, and attack, with the delineation such you can practically separate the white and black keys in your mind. As for that liquid interplay between Adderley and Davis? Breathtakingly lifelike in timbre, naturalism, purity, and presence. This collector's version takes you there – there being Rudy Van Gelder's legendary New Jersey studio in March 1958 to witness it all unfold, again and again.

For reasons that extend far beyond the outstanding playing and flawless repertoire, Somethin' Else is without question a record you'll always want to watch and hear come together. As veteran critic Bob Blumenthal observed writing about the album four decades after its release, "The instant rapport achieved by the quintet is thus the product of much shared and common history, though the tensile strength that they create throughout created a totally unique feeling that can be attributed to the sensitive musicianship of all concerned, including the supposedly hard bopping leader and drummer." Such inimitable feeling, or emotion, courses throughout every passage, and no where more obviously than on "Autumn Leaves" and "Love for Sale."

Without question, the discreet interpretations of the Johnny Mercer and Cole Porter songs, respectively, found on Somethin' Else have long been considered part of jazz's alluring mystique. Adderley and Davis bring contrasting approaches to the table yet sound of a singular mind on "Autumn Leaves," with the latter's muted trumpet and the headliner's lush alto saxophone dovetailing into a performance that endures as a blueprint for expression, counterpoint, sophistication, fluidity, and linearity. Blues, melody, and romance pour from their horns. Their bandmates, picking up on the intimate vibe and calm mood here – as well as on the spry, head-over-heels spirit of "Love for Sale" – join in on the conversation with sharp economy and float-on-air roundedness.

Not to undersell the other three numbers, all deserving five-star status. Twelve measures in length, the title track offers a slow burn in swing. Written by Adderley's brother, Nat, the 12-bar "One for Daddy-O" transmits funk flavors. The closing "Dancing in the Dark" pops with lushness and temptation, its stream of bold colours and understated textures calling for a moonlight twirl, or at least fantasies suggestive of a memorable night. Somethin' else, indeed.

"When the call came from WDR Rockpalast, we were thrilled - And the joy
grew from day to day," says Peter Bursch, head of the German Krautrock
legend Broselmaschine, founded in 1968 by "Germany's most famous
guitar teacher".Back in 1968, the Heinrich-Robert coalmine in Hamm was
still in its full bloom
Coal had been mined there since 1901, the year in which the Heinrich and Robert
shafts - as they are called in miners' jargon - were "abgeteuft", followed by the
Franz shaft in 1923. On November 10, 1997, the colliery closed its doors forever.
In the colliery's former wage hall, where the miners used to receive their
envelopes with their weekly wages, Broselmaschine rolled out carpets, plugged in
cables and set up their instruments on April 20, 2021. The high-ceilinged rooms
not only provided a matchless scenery, but also the basis for a unique ambient
sound. The perfect setting for Broselmaschine. But Corona had almost
completely paralyzed public life at this point; the pandemic was taking its toll on
the entire cultural scene. Spectators were not allowed to the events. The artists
and bands gave concerts anyway, sometimes from their flats, rehearsal rooms or
in small, empty clubs, and then came to the fans' homes via live stream. This also
applied for the WDR's Rockpalast with its "Offstage" series. The makers of
Rockpalast organized concerts with performances by artists in special places
that were deserted during the lockdown. That had its own charm and was
something very special.
This was also the case with Broselmaschine. The band played almost exclusively
songs from their latest studio album "Elegy" from 2019, as well as the title track
of the previous album "Indian Camel" and as a finale the Marc Bolan cover of
"Children Of The Revolution". Broselmaschine put on a great performance, no one
missed the audience that was not physically present. But it was there, this
audience. And it was in the hearts of the musicians. You can feel this with every
note this outstanding band was playing. Never were Broselmaschine more
musically valuable than on that special occasion.But judge for yourself.
Unique Rockpalast concert OFFSTAGE from the Corona era, recorded on April 20,
2021 at Heinrich-Robert colliery in Hamm, Germany - also available on vinyl