Search:g sudden

Loosely inspired by the book "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy, ILUITEQ's fourth album, "Reflections From The Road," expands the novel's theme, where human beings are overwhelmed by an ordeal that completely changes the course of their lives.

Events that suddenly interrupt the "ordinary movements" of life in a new, unpredictable, and often dangerous way. A strong sense of motion permeates Reflections From The Road's ten tracks in a new and unexpected way compared to previous works by the Italian ambient duo.

With "Reflections From The Road," ILUITEQ explores new music territories, strongly contrasting pristine textures and glitchy sounds.

Tape
"And we"re coming out of dreams / And we"re coming back to dreams" is the first thing you hear Bill say as you remake your acquaintance on YTILAER. Right out the gate, he"s standing in two places at once: meeting up with old friends behind the scenes and encountering them on the record, finding himself coming round the bend and then again as someone else on down the line. Like the character actor he played on Gold Record, writing stories about other people, telling jokes about everyone, and in singing them, becoming the songs. "You do what you"ve got to do / To see the picture" Bill"s got a full band sound going on this one, with him and Matt Kinsey on guitars, Emmett Kelly on bass and backing vocals, Sarah Ann Phillips on B3, piano and backing vocals and Jim White on drums. Jim and Matt sing on one song, too, and some other singers come in, too. Bill plays some synth here and there, and Carl Smith drifts in and out of the picture with his contra alto clarinet, as do Mike St. Clair and Derek Phelps on brass. Somehow in between them all, you might think you hear the distant sound of a steel guitar. And you might - but you might not, too. In this company, Bill continues his journey, tunneling underneath the weathered exterior of what seems to be and into the more nuanced life everything takes on in the dark. With Bill"s voice making the extraordinary leaps and bounds that measure the lives of the songs, the band follow him through passages that seem to invent themselves; other times playing with deeply soulful grooves and/or desperate intensity, as these moments come and go. There"s nothing they can"t do. "I wrote this song in five and forever / I"m writing it right now" Bill sings on "Natural Information" - an admission of the everyday alchemy he"s forever trafficking in. Time passes, triangulating the encounters that went into any one record with two out of any three others, all of it made flesh, new constitution, in our stereo speakers. If every album is its own life, it stands to reason that they"re invariably passing in the night. Cascading images flowing from the stream of consciousness. Turning like pages from the journal, unspeakably personal, then suddenly become tall tales, like a book pulled off the shelf, completely unbound. Headlines flow through. Mirror images, mirthful ones. Bill"s lyrics strain at the lines on the page, not content to separate the printing of the fact from the myth or be confined to ink on paper. They want to fly free. And they do. "I realize now that dreams are real" On YTILAER"s inner sleeve, alongside his lyrics, Bill celebrates the "exhilaration and dread" of cover artist Paul Ryan"s paintings. Paul"s another one met up with again down the road, his indelible cover imagery on Apocalypse and Dream River now an axis of meaning in the Callahanian world - and in the bright colors found in these new images, a parallel to Bill"s recognitions here. "A breath of exquisite air as we come up from drowning", sounds like the desired hope for those hearing the songs of YTILAER.

‘’Ace Todmorden label makes a significant discovery on its own doorstep: a superb cache of ‘loner folk’ songs recorded in the early-70s by Hebden Bridge’s answer to Nick Drake’’ UNCUT PLAYLIST

"This is music that can confidently hold its own with pioneers such as Davey Graham, Michael Chapman, Bert Jansch and Jackson C Frank, as influenced by jazz, blues and steel guitar as any of the old songbook classics from ancient Albion.” Benjamin Myers
"Defiantly Northern and out of this world" Folk Radio

Anti-counter culture loner folk from a teenage attic in the heart of rural Northern hippiedom.
Today the valley town of Hebden Bridge in West Yorkshire is world-renowned as something of a bohemian backwater. It wasn’t like this back in the late 1960s and the early 1970s, when a disparate selection of radicals, drop-outs, heads, musicians, artists and writers started to be attracted to the Calder Valley. Local lad and future poet laureate Ted Hughes called the area “the fouled nest of industrialisation”.
Over time, those seeds of radicalism and collectivism ensured Hebden Bridge evolved into a place where people could be themselves and all shades of individual oddness not only tolerated but actively encouraged. But back at the turn of the dreary 1970s it remained a monochrome world defined by its unforgiving surrounding landscapes, where the old gritstone over-dwellings were stained with soot and rain lashed down for weeks.
It was here that Trevor Beales, who was born in 1953, grew up, and from where he drew musical and lyrical inspiration.
Perhaps it was this dual nationality heritage, unusual in the valley’s largely white working class population at the time, that gave the teenager Trevor Beale’s music an outsider’s perspective. The discovery of Bob Dylan, Django Reinhardt, The Byrds and James Taylor at a young age, lead to him picking up a guitar at the age of ten, and he was soon writing his own originals and performing them at local (though often remote) folk clubs and pubs.
Recorded in the attic of the family home at Ivy Bank in Charlestown on the verdant wooded slopes at the edge of Hebden Bridge between 1971 and 1974, these early recordings are collected here for the first time and mark Trevor Beales long-overdue solo debut.
In these songs is a suffer-no-fools sense of realism that is defiantly Northern, yet also expresses a worldliness that belies Beales’ young years, whilst also showcasing an inherent storyteller’s ear for narrative. Here is a postcard from the past at that crucial musical period of transition, when the idealistic exponents of the 1960s emerged into an austere new decade that was to be shaped by strikes, rising unemployment and economic upheaval.
Two aspects of this music make it remarkable: Beales’ natural ability showcases a sophisticated guitar-picking style that was leagues ahead of many of his (older, more recognised) contemporaries. This is music that can confidently hold its own with pioneers such as Davey Graham, Michael Chapman, Dave Evans, Bert Jansch and Jackson C Frank, as influenced by jazz, blues and steel guitar as any of the old songbook classics from ancient Albion.
Secondly, his lyrics are a far cry from either the naïve bedroom scribblings of a teenager who has barely left his upland home, nor do they fall foul of the type of lazy cliches and sub-Tolkien imagery that was still in abundance in the early 1970s. Most remarkably the earliest songs here were laid down less than a year after he left school (an unearthed report written by his headteacher on July 3rd 1970 noted he had “a considerable ability and interest in music”, though his education ended abruptly when he simply walked out of a science lesson one sunny day while at sixth form, never to return).
Trevor’s music is grounded in reality – his reality. ‘Then I’ll Take You Home’, for example, considers the Guru Marajai, who encouraged his acolytes to give over their worldly possessions, yet who drove a Rolls Royce and lived like a playboy. Unsurprisingly, this latest in a long line of spiritual charlatans found several followers in Hebden Bridge, and Beales casts a disdainful eye over the growing popularity for such false prophets.
With its ancient narratives and propensity for myth-making, folk has certainly produced it’s fair share of cult figures who have enjoyed rediscovery or career resurgence and with this debut compilation of home recordings, rescued from cassette tapes, Trevor Beales might just be the latest addition. Certainly he was the real deal.
Crucially, Beales' music is never jaded or cynical, but instead possesses a poet’s ear, a strong sense of self and some sound critical faculties. And much of it recorded at an age when he could neither vote nor order a pint of heavy.
Trevor Beales died suddenly and unexpectedly on March 29th 1987, aged 33. He left behind Christine and their young child Lydia.

After 36 years without singing one word, unforeseeable tragedy and its consecutive challenges made Rico Friebe finally find his voice, suddenly and fluently starting to write songs full of intimacy and subtle storytelling – now presented on his debut singer album „Word Value“!

Processing the encounter with a special person and the lasting aftermath, all songs are perfused by an emotional sincerity and serenity, dealing with a rise and fall of depression and hope while furthermore exploring forgotten chasms and grievances from his further past.

„Word Value“ is tracing an arc as the first of four albums that are deeply connected, based on one another, followed next by the second LP „Faces Meets“ later in 2023.

In times of fast rising technology, artificial intelligence, social deconstruction, inflation of language and morality, the most basic and natural human needs haven't ever changed – re-find them while closing your eyes, opening your soul and putting on „Word Value“...

LTD. 180g WHITE LP + CD + TAPE + DOWNLOAD-CODE (INCL. UNRELEASED BONUS SONG) BUNDLE!

After 36 years without singing one word, unforeseeable tragedy and its consecutive challenges made Rico Friebe finally find his voice, suddenly and fluently starting to write songs full of intimacy and subtle storytelling – now presented on his debut singer album „Word Value“!

Processing the encounter with a special person and the lasting aftermath, all songs are perfused by an emotional sincerity and serenity, dealing with a rise and fall of depression and hope while furthermore exploring forgotten chasms and grievances from his further past.

„Word Value“ is tracing an arc as the first of four albums that are deeply connected, based on one another, followed next by the second LP „Faces Meets“ later in 2023.

In times of fast rising technology, artificial intelligence, social deconstruction, inflation of language and morality, the most basic and natural human needs haven't ever changed – re-find them while closing your eyes, opening your soul and putting on „Word Value“...

Tape

After 36 years without singing one word, unforeseeable tragedy and its consecutive challenges made Rico Friebe finally find his voice, suddenly and fluently starting to write songs full of intimacy and subtle storytelling – now presented on his debut singer album „Word Value“!

Processing the encounter with a special person and the lasting aftermath, all songs are perfused by an emotional sincerity and serenity, dealing with a rise and fall of depression and hope while furthermore exploring forgotten chasms and grievances from his further past.

„Word Value“ is tracing an arc as the first of four albums that are deeply connected, based on one another, followed next by the second LP „Faces Meets“ later in 2023.

In times of fast rising technology, artificial intelligence, social deconstruction, inflation of language and morality, the most basic and natural human needs haven't ever changed – re-find them while closing your eyes, opening your soul and putting on „Word Value“...

Pink Blue Marbled Vinyl

Angelo is an EP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist and singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy's father and both of Stuart's parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo's sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, "to get us out of our grief and into our bodies," says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal _ a resourceful, collective answer to "what happens now?". Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. "Such a bro-y, `80s dude car, it's been super fun to drive around in a new town," Murphy says. "He's older than us, he's a classic, he's got a story." It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, "Which Way To The Club." The question is quickly resolved by "Take A Trip" as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip - the kind of imagined space or chamber within one's self capable of "shifting a fraction of who you are," says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be "as free as we could be," adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: "What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room." Next is "Shy Guy," a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: "We are in junior high, we're on the dance floor, what's going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?" The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. "Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too," Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one - something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, "It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission." "Angelo" and "Ooo La La" deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean's catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo's dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude "Colors" drifting into "Where Do We Go?", a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space. It all culminates in "Caldwell's Way," a fond farewell to their Bay Area community - "a part of my life that I knew couldn't come back," says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There's the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: "I'd rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars." And the song's namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. "I'm only miles away, maybe I'm just feeling lonely," the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and "Nostalgia" runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.

More in tune now with the rhythm of the sun and moon, Xylouris White (Dirty Jim White and George Xylouris) speak to each other across great distances with the intuition and fellowship that can only be found over years in each other"s company. With fewer distractions, appreciative of the freedom to play with new sounds and spaces, they carve The Forest In Me from unbelievably thin air. Once you set the needle down on the record and hear for yourself, the intimacies and impressionism, abstraction and unfiltered emotion found in The Forest In Me, you may wonder what was the mood of the room in which this music came to be. George, Jim and long-time producer (and secret third member) Guy Picciotto share their thoughts: Guy Picciotto: "In late 2019, we had begun taking steps to working on new material. In a haphazard fashion, Jim and I started tracking drums in my basement, cutting them up into shapes with no set landing in mind. Some of it we sent to Giorgos in Crete - he responded with his lyra and his lute. Without intention we had initiated a process that would soon become more ruthlessly mandated by the world events that separated and isolated us to three corners of the globe in the following year." Giorgos Xylouris: "While we were recording, I noticed that the music had a certain solitude about it, both from the title and from inside. That led us to find more music from within that we had not yet discovered." Jim White: "The idea emerged, naturally nourished and nourishing a record with none of our usual angles and themes, no verbal language, no angst nor sudden dynamics, a more subtle structure. And we found The Forest In Me." The first revelation from The Forest In Me is "Latin White", in which Jim"s jaunty pattern sets the stage for George"s Cretan lyra and lute figurations, giving this short dance piece the feel of a welcome hoedown around the campfire, warding off the encroaching darkness of an emptied world. The repetitions, gathered to induce joy, have a glassy-eyed mechanical drive to them; their dervish-istic seeking betrays any suggestion of balm.

Multi-Award winning, hugely influential musician Feist returns with Multitudes, her sixth solo album and first since 2017’s Pleasure.

Multitudes was produced by Feist with longtime collaborators Robbie Lackritz (The Weather Station, Bahamas, Robbie Robertson) and Mocky (Jamie Lidell, Vulfpeck, Kelela). Blake Mills (Bob Dylan, Fiona Apple, Perfume Genius) and Joseph Lorge came in to mix, with Mills as a co-producer in the final stages.

Multitudes took shape soon after the birth of her daughter and sudden death of her father, a back-to-back convergence of life-altering events that left the Canadian singer/songwriter with “Nothing performative in me anymore.” As she cleansed her songwriting of any tendency to obscure unwanted truths, Feist slowly made her way toward a batch of songs rooted in a raw and potent realism which is touched with otherworldly beauty.

Largely written and workshopped during an intensely communal experimental show of the same name through 2021 and 2022, the songs on Multitudes developed in parallel with and were deeply influenced by the mutuality of the unconventional experience. The production, developed by Feist with legendary designer Rob Sinclair (David Byrne’s American Utopia, Peter Gabriel, Tame Impala) was formulated to bring people together as they re-emerged from lockdown while providing an outlet for connection between artist, art, and community.

On Labyrinth, Heather Woods Broderick serves as our reflective host, subverting expectations of conventional songcraft with impressionistic language and quietly relentless explorations of the human experience that's at once light and dark, more circular and less linear. "Many of us yearn for stillness and peace, as an escape from the movement all around us," she explains when asked about the themes of the album. "Yet movement is perpetual, happening all the time on some level. It's as wild as the wind, yet eternally predictable in its inevitability. It is linear in part, but infinite in its circuitry. Our lives just punctuate it." Broderick began crafting Labyrinth in March 2020, when most forms of move- ment were brought to a screeching halt. The Maine-born, Los Angeles-based songwriter _ who, in addition to her work as a solo musician, built a life playing and touring with acts such as Sharon Van Etten, Beth Orton, Damien Jurado, and Efterklang _ was suddenly forced off the road for the first time in her career. She used this disruption as an opportunity to pare down her creation process and construct the scaffolding for Labyrinth in her apartment. Employing only the most crucial tools at her disposal, Broderick found herself opening different artistic doors as she focused on sharpening her recording skills, capturing the majority of the album on her own before finishing the remainder with co-producer D. James Goodwin. For all of Broderick's sage lyricism and vocal authority, Labyrinth never provides the listener with any easy answers. If the image of the labyrinth represents the enormity of modern life and the difficulty of navigating it, Heather Woods Broder- ick provides a guide to its endless kinetic wonders _ of being present, aware, and connected despite its disconnects. She describes the texture of its walls, its indifferent rhythms, and the inherent poeticism of feeling lost amid the dead-ends and unexpected turns. At this point in our history, perhaps that's all we need to keep moving.

Grey Vinyl

On Labyrinth, Heather Woods Broderick serves as our reflective host, subverting expectations of conventional songcraft with impressionistic language and quietly relentless explorations of the human experience that's at once light and dark, more circular and less linear. "Many of us yearn for stillness and peace, as an escape from the movement all around us," she explains when asked about the themes of the album. "Yet movement is perpetual, happening all the time on some level. It's as wild as the wind, yet eternally predictable in its inevitability. It is linear in part, but infinite in its circuitry. Our lives just punctuate it." Broderick began crafting Labyrinth in March 2020, when most forms of move- ment were brought to a screeching halt. The Maine-born, Los Angeles-based songwriter _ who, in addition to her work as a solo musician, built a life playing and touring with acts such as Sharon Van Etten, Beth Orton, Damien Jurado, and Efterklang _ was suddenly forced off the road for the first time in her career. She used this disruption as an opportunity to pare down her creation process and construct the scaffolding for Labyrinth in her apartment. Employing only the most crucial tools at her disposal, Broderick found herself opening different artistic doors as she focused on sharpening her recording skills, capturing the majority of the album on her own before finishing the remainder with co-producer D. James Goodwin. For all of Broderick's sage lyricism and vocal authority, Labyrinth never provides the listener with any easy answers. If the image of the labyrinth represents the enormity of modern life and the difficulty of navigating it, Heather Woods Broder- ick provides a guide to its endless kinetic wonders _ of being present, aware, and connected despite its disconnects. She describes the texture of its walls, its indifferent rhythms, and the inherent poeticism of feeling lost amid the dead-ends and unexpected turns. At this point in our history, perhaps that's all we need to keep moving.

Platform 23 again explores to the dense voids, this time with a touch of the funk, with a reissue of Dutch experimentalists De Fabriek and two tracks from their "Music For" cassette series, this time calling all Hippies.

Featuring both original and reinterpretations from modern-day heads, Dunkeltier and Khidja, this double-pack is something of an oddity, showcasing the bands' expansive range, moving away from the noise, drone and industrial soundscape releases they had become known for and crafting here, free flowing, groovy longform jams.

Active since the late 70s to today, De Fabriek (The Factory) have never considered themselves a real band - being also a label too - with an evolving and irregular line up centred around Richard van Dellen, they present their music and output as a kind of work-union.

With literally four decades and dozens of releases across all formats, 1988's cassette release, 'Music For Hippies', has become something of a cult curio, with the long improvisational tracks, Lullabye and Coming Down eschewing the rougher, industrial experience for something completely different.

In opener Lullabye, we go full leftfield P-Funk meets Motorik undertones. An incessant beat is laid from the start and doesn't cease for over 10 minutes, while spoken vocals call closer to the Krautrock realms of Can and hark to Liebezeit's stylised grooving best.

Analog, echo washed, with touches of glam and wrapped in simple effects pedal work, the secrets are passed to Dresden / Berlin inhabitant Dunkeltier aka Sneaker DJ aka Thomas Smorek. His darker moniker, appearing on obscure edits for Macadam Mambo and the much-missed Bahnsteig 23, his 'Hey Robot' mix adds bass, percussion, strings and synth to remold Lullabye into a late night, red light, basement denzien. This is followed by an additional, bonus reimagining, creating an all-new time piece, an ear worm of the best kind with Tik Tok Goes The Clock.

The second slab presents in Come Down, a more resembling De Fabriek werk. Edited to fit, the darkness is entered as snapshot vocal quips, oscillations and synthesised mutations are laid over a lazy, relentless ostinato rhythm where cymbals crash on the bar. Inviting, calling, De Fabriek's aptly titled downer is in fact, a joyous journey.

To complete, label affiliates, Khidja take a break from finalising their debut album to unfold their 'Psychebabble Mix', a dozen plus minutes of warped, twisted, cassette machinations that suck the listener further along the trip. Added bass propels their edit suddenly to a new direction, a hook for mind and for the open willed, the body. De Fabriek's "coming down lullabye" arriving on vinyl for the first time, with a twist and shake, calling deeper to acceptance.

2023 Repress

Talismann dominates the assault with it's fourth release, marching towards imminent victory. Haunting soundscapes coming from the filthiest trenches, sudden rhythmic strikes with such brutal force that it will leave the auditory senses shell shocked...

Before MF DOOM donned his mask and became one of the most prolific MC-producers of modern Hip-Hop, he was a member of KMD, an early ‘90s rap group whose work still goes criminally under-appreciated to this day.

Following their 1991 debut album, Mr. Hood, the former trio shed one member leaving only two remaining – Subroc and his brother, Zev Love X (better known today as MF DOOM). Originally scheduled for release in 1994, their sophomore album Black Bastards showed clear progression from their debut. It was a truly amazing record, both sonically and lyrically, full of youthful creativity and tinged with the stresses of growing up as Black men in urban America. Songs like the lead single “What A N*gga Know”, the slippery, bass-driven “Get U Now”, and the album’s title track explore Black consciousness viewed through young-but-experienced eyes. Musically alternating between bouncy and raw – many times both, concurrently – the tracks gave the MC’s the springboard they needed to express themselves clearly.

Sadly, Subroc would face a sudden and untimely death in 1993, just as the duo were finishing the album. Grief-stricken, his brother Zev Love X – now the sole remaining member of the group – was determined to carry the legacy of KMD onward, but Elektra Records unceremoniously shelved the project in the eleventh hour, due to controversy surrounding the album’s provocative cover art. Following the fallout with Elektra, Zev tried for years to release the album on other labels, but he was continually met with dead ends. Struggling through the pain of losing his brother, coupled with the inability to release their final project together, a discouraged Zev Love X quietly withdrew from the scene and began quietly plotting his revenge on an industry that had broken him spiritually. Thus, in order to understand the true origin story of the super-villain, MF DOOM, one must recognize and appreciate the evolution of his former group, KMD, and the backstory of their pivotal album, Black Bastards.

Sintering or frittage is the process of compacting and forming a solid mass of material by heat or pressure without melting it to the point of liquefaction. The material produced by sintering is called sinter. The word sinter comes from the Middle High German sinter, a cognate of English cinder.

Born in the mid-60s, German musician and sound designer Uwe Zahn came on the scene of electronic music with his debut full-length album for DIN, titled “Atol Scrap.” In the very same year of 2000, the influential City Centre Offices label has signed Arovane for his majestic “Tides,” which has withstood the test of time for over two decades now. Back then, electronic music was split between the dance floors and the bedroom listening, with the latter carrying the now-famous acronym for Intelligent Dance Music. And Zahn’s compositions were indeed just that – more than a gimmicky, knob-twisting, stuttering randomization of experimental rhythms and tone, Arovane’s music evoked real emotion which has assembled his followers from around the globe. But his arrival on the scene was more than a predictable trajectory. Zahn’s sound began to take shape in the late 80s when the cut-up hip-hop beats were layered with synthesizer pads and looped samples. This experimentation progressed into what the 90s coined as breakbeat and glitch.

As the 2000s rolled over, and the monumental imprints, such as Skam and Warp, honed their staple repertoire defining the future of electronic music, City Centre Offices had a staple of their own. Often referenced alongside Boards of Canada and Autechre, Arovane’s sound quickly gained a discerning audience, tuning into his melancholic melodies, advanced textures, and complex polyrhythms. The pinnacle of his production was released in 2004, when suddenly, on “Lilies,” Zahn signed off with the final track, which he has titled “Good Bye Forever.” And then there was silence. For nearly nine years, the scene and yours truly mourned the loss of Arovane, assuming that he’s given up. That is until, in 2013, Zahn came out with a brand new album, “Ve Palor,” on the surviving post-IDM imprint, n5MD.

While on hiatus, Uwe spent his time researching, reconnecting, and reflecting on all he’s built. The sound experiments went on, and so did the music scene, morphing, dissolving, re-shaping itself into a new form for new followers. During that time, Zahn spent some time with sound design, creating patches for Access Virus TI, as well as sample packs for various sound developers. After “Ve Palor,” Zahn began collaborating with various musicians from around the world, exploring, directing, and fusing their distinguished sound with his own. On his subsequent releases, he shared credits with ambient artists Porya Hatami, Hior Chronik, Darren McClure, and even yours truly. During our collaboration, Zahn often described the process of building a new vocabulary for our very own defined language, with which my piano spoke through sound.

With nearly two dozen studio releases under his belt, numerous EPs and singles, and just as many appearances on various compilations, Zahn continues to split his time between his fascination with sound design, sonic programming, and musical composition, which sees the light via his ongoing projects, releases, and contributions towards audio plug-ins, software synths, and sound sets for advanced hardware. It’s effortless to slot Zahn’s sound between the genres, scenes, and names, but very difficult to peel apart, define, and then express the essence using words. However, what is simple and essential for the ones who understand, is recognizing, admiring, and subsequently falling in love with all that is encompassing of Arovane. (by Mike Lazarev)

It’s been seven strange years since The Veils’ last studio album Total Depravity, and Finn Andrews has a new double LP to show for it. "...And Out Of The Void Came Love" is the result of this tumultuous period of injury, isolation and new life...

Following the release of Total Depravity, Andrews released a solo album and began a worldwide tour. One night, while lashing out at a particularly intense moment on piano, he broke his wrist on stage. “It sounds wild and Jerry Lee Lewis-esque, but it was an absolute fucking nightmare,” Andrews says. He played on and finished the rest of the tour, but it wasn’t until he got it examined much later that he realized what a bad move that was. “The scaphoid bone in my wrist had died, which I didn’t know was possible. My sister said that at least it was a really ‘on brand’ injury for me.”

Finn’s convalescence meant a lengthy hiatus from touring, so he did what he does best and stayed at home and wrote songs. “I was in a cast and couldn’t use my right hand. I sang the melody lines, then recorded the right hand piano part, then the left hand part. It might have been an interesting, avant-garde process if it wasn’t also just profoundly annoying.”

Just when his hand had healed sufficiently for him to play again, The Veils found themselves in need of a new record label but Finn set about starting to make a new record regardless. Producer Tom Healy invited Finn to his small studio underneath the old Crystal Palace ballroom in Mount Eden, and they listened through the legions of songs he had amassed throughout the previous year.

“Tom was incredibly patient, it was a really laborious process - I brought a lot of junk down there and we had to sift through it all to try and find the parts worth saving.”

Following another two years of intermittent recording between lockdowns, Finn’s wife became pregnant, and yet more songs started coming.

By the time the songs had been recorded, it was clear that arranging the album into two halves best suited such varied material - but the meaning of the songs as a whole still eluded Andrews. “Then my daughter was born, and suddenly the whole record made sense to me,” he says. The music was telling a story, and somewhat strangely for The Veils, it seemed to have a happy ending.

The result of all these years of questioning, confinement and precarious uncertainty is the magnificent new double album from The Veils … And Out Of The Void Came Love. It is an album intended to be listened to in two sittings with a short break in the middle, or as Andrews instructs: “Make a coffee or smoke a cigarette – but don’t mow the lawn or go to the movies or something, that takes too long.”

Composer Victoria Kelly’s soaring string arrangements play an integral role in bringing the songs to life, as do musicians Cass Basil (bass), Dan Raishbrook (lap steel, guitar), Liam Gerrard (piano), Joseph McCallum (drums) the NZTrio and special guests the Smoke Fairies on backing vocals.

“Refreshingly passionate… Andrews rages with a Herculean intensity.” The Guardian
“Horse-whipped, lightning-crash clamor… magnetic.” Pitchfork
“One of the finest songwriters of his generation.” Drowned in Sound

Tripping Daisy is a neo-psychedelic pop rock band that was formed in Dallas, Texas, by lead singer/guitarist Tim DeLaughter in 1990 along with Jeff Bouck (drums), Wes Berggren (guitar) and Mark Pirro (bass). The group disbanded in 1999 following the sudden death of Berggren. The remaining members reformed for a few reunion concerts in 2017 and 2019. Their debut album Bill was released in 1993 and features 10 tracks which are evidence of the early 90’s alt-pop sound.

Bill is available on vinyl for the first time and includes an insert.

• 180 GRAM AUDIOPHILE VINYL
• INCLUDES INSERT
• 1993 DEBUT ALBUM FEATURING “MY
UMBRELLA” AND “BLOWN AWAY” A.O.
• AVAILABLE ON VINYL FOR THE FIRST TIME
• FEATURING “MY UMBRELLA”, “BLOWN AWAY” A.O.

Drawing inspiration from the depths of late 70’s
NYC proto-rap disco instrumentals, Nigerian boogie,
Jamaican dub and modern jazzy house - The
Lahaar is a Trans-Tasman collaboration between
Julien Dyne, Horatio Luna and Surprise Chef’s
Lachlan Stuckey, featuring Mara TK and Toby Laing on vocals.
The EP embarks on a 5-track rollercoaster - kicking
off with “Doin’ It”, fast-paced jazz-funk peppered
with marimba and organ riffs, balanced out by the
siren vocals of Mara TK.
“Step 2” suddenly brakes and swerves into cruise
mode, repurposing the trumpets and dub echoes
- picking up tempo in the soulful melancholia of
“Work Work Work”. In the last two tracks the organs
and guitars make a frenetic comeback by way of
disco-house, ending with a nod to 70s cop movie
funk.

Never released before recordings from Logos Foundation live sessions at Logos Foundation, January 3, 1981.

The music is free-improvisation - that is we make our music co-operatively while playing : by listening, reacting, throwing in new ideas, not by following preplanned schemes. At its simplest the group's intention can be said to be to play together as well as possible and to enjoy ourselves while doing so. We are very interested in the result and intend that the audience is as well. As well as the musicians reacting to each other the music itself is pretty reactive to context. In other words room acoustics, background noise, audience response have a strong effect on what happens. This is particularly true of the audience. We have done performances where conversation has broken out with some audience members. There is much to see as well as hear - this is partly to do with the instruments. Together Terry, Steve and David have hundreds, all sizes, all sorts, most colours. They completely cover the floor. Many of these are non-western. The wide range of instruments means that an extremely broad sound spectrum is covered, from sudden bangs to very quiet low notes, from squeaks to normal guitar sounds. This is what fixes the overal group sound.

David Toop: Flute, home-made reeds, percussion Peter Cusack: Guitar Steve Beresford: Piano, Small Instruments Terry Day: Percussion, home-made reeds

Logos Foundation, located in Ghent, is a unique professional organisation for the promotion of new music and audio-related arts by means of new music production, concerts, performances, composition, technological research and other activities related to contemporary music. This organisation has been founded in 1968 by Godfried-Willem Raes.

As the artwork on the EP depicts, "Darkest hour before dawn" is a dusky scenario representing the Dutch environment known as "the polder" in the lower lands. It questions all kinds of actions taken or not taken to protect, restore, conserve, innovate, or modestly leave the landscape to its own more murky outcome. The darkest hour, full of gloom, will be available around the spring equinox?

Portrait of tracks separately:


"Darkest Hour before dawn"

Is this piece supposed to be an ode to the ancient Dutch hardcore movement, that once and probably only then would be experienced to such intensity or is this still maybe just a little near reminder of it? Anyway starts this unlit track slowly and remains that way but maintains a fat-pumping pulse, possibly reminding of a soldier walking a death march. Settling up those launch pads further down the piece, near the bridge for shooting off some drum-fire 909 snares as if it rocketed. Then, suddenly, the extended delay of that snare turns into a psychedelic drone beside, attending to, or paranoidly chasing comrades soul in his journey throughout and above like a trustful partner?

Arp's LFO that is out of sync with the beat and is being outpaced by it seems to slow everything down even more; meantime creating a pulling, buggy-like effect to the due of all this.

The ascending and descending ghost-pad drawing into the grid of the (tone) key, thereafter parking in them for a while and cycling out again, creating a spatial flow of disturbance and anxiety.

Finishes it with a mountain-big reverberation of organized destruction and chaos. What at first sight seems like simply an innocent route appears to actually be a bit more complex one.


"Lovely memories"

The quite monotonous structure of Lovely memories catchy and groovy song is scanning through your brain files; revisiting, memorizing, and purposely lacking these few "dots above the I" that in some cases you'd gladly be feeling like to square fit it in yourself, of course, when necessary. Connecting the puzzling, dazzling flashbacks together to finally wrap up and perpetuate the pictured events for good, leaving traces of melancholy, loveliness, and perhaps even faith to it.


"24 hours"

Dinginess of 24 hours supposes to be felt in the guts.
The beat, steady with that snare on the 4 & 12, might not be one of the greatest inventions. However, the TR-08's drum line here lays a solid and fertile foundation for a reasonable house track.

Slightly detuned synths weave a scarf pattern around your upper body, and the lower layers carry a warm blanket for the underbelly, providing you with that cozy sense of consolation. Acidy pokes wring itself sneaky and penetrable around, slicing through the song's already solid flesh. Therefore, balancing its bitter sweetness throughout with these soft-hard saw-tooth drops of sourness.

"24 hours" conveys a dispatch or intercommunication that there is little time left to take actions/charge to fix and restore. Something big is about to come if it hasn't arrived already...


"At night"

This remarkable story is a bit out of ordinary.
At night appeared in the artist's dream just the night before his sick father was raised from death in the hospital and got just another year to live before actually passing away completely and anyway. ; ))
And thus also dedicated to the man.

A lot can happen in ten years.

Rewind back to Gateshead in 2008 - the producer Smoove is round his friend and keyboard player - Mike Porter's house. Together they are working on tracks for his project and all of a sudden they hear a heavenly voice from the neighbour. Transfixed by the vocals that are caressing their ears they go and investigate to find a youthful John Turrell doing his thing at a practice with a local band he played with when he wasn't teaching carpentry at the local college. Together they woo him with their Geordie charms and the initial line up of 'Smoove & Turrell' is born. The group instantly gel and soon after have penned the killer track 'I Can't Give You Up'...

Flash forward to 2019 and the carpentry community looks on with jealousy as the group has gone from strength to strength. Signed to the independent label Jalapeno Records they are now five albums deep and they have achieved multiple radio-playlisted singles, won awards, toured with the likes of Chic, gained sync success across the world and continue to wow venues in all continents with their thrilling live shows on the regular.

All of this in an age where attention spans are shorter than ever and there is more access to music than ever. This is certainly an achievement worth celebrating. Doubly so in fact as not only is it their ten year anniversary collection but also it is the 300th official release on Jalapeno Records so it only seems right that the occasion gets commemorated properly - a double gatefold LP with brass coloured vinyl somehow seems appropriate...

Comprising of 18 tracks taken from all five of their studio albums as well as two new barnstorming tunes exclusive to this release - it's a veritable feast of northern funk gems from start to finish. Favourites from their deep catalogue including 'Slow Down', 'Beggarman', 'In Deep', 'Have Love' and 'You Could've Been A Lady' are all present and correct, lining up next to the two newbies which also hold their own.

"But what about the new tracks!" we hear you cry - well Smoove's solo rework of The Spencer Davis Group - I'm A Man is the stuff of legend with physical copies changing hands for huge sums (if you are lucky enough to be able to locate one in the first place!). The track has long been a staple of S&T live sets but they've never laid it down in a studio recording... That is until now. It's a monster of a tune and the perfect way to kick proceedings off on this record.

That's not all though, as the lads also serve up the aptly reflective 'Give it Back'. It's signature Smoove & Turrell stuff - full of soul with deep and heartfelt lyricism. Turrell's chorus refrain "We love the ones who give it back" is typically honest and true of a band that prides themselves on community. Proper canny that. Proper canny.

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

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

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

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

After the recent Experiments re-issue with 90's off-style unclassifiable tracks composed by the legendary Dub producer - The Disciples - Androo (NS Kroo) sets out to re-create and freely adapt this material. The fact that Sound Metaphors chose Androo to re-construct these works in to new material is not random. Androo has been producing Dub since he was a teenager but he quickly turned to all kinds of musical experiences, mixing styles and influences. Once past the intimidation of working with material from one of his favorite and revered producers, Androo tried to pay homage to the free spirit that this Disciples album contains. Between reference and irreverence, the album is woven with a playful, DIY, and also serious weave. As you listen, a sometimes very harmonious and controlled landscape takes shape, then suddenly steep slopes and raw ridges appear. Almost like an art of sound drawing. A line in permanent oscillation between supposedly antagonistic registers. Danceable pieces cut for dancefloor brush against strange, problematic, and voluntarily irrecoverable elements. Consensual pop chords rub shoulders with sizzling blurred contours and sounds that are sometimes too loud. 4/4 rhythms get jackhammered out of the tempo with opulent delay effects. The “Dubmix” is here, constantly at work. It is, above all, an art of the hands, fingers handling the console which from then on becomes an instrument in its own right - for Androo Dub is experimental music.

Close to five years on from their last transmission, Ulrika Spacek resurface from self-imposed exile with their third album, Compact Trauma, a collection of songs that function as a chance treatise of sorts for our current collective condition. With a title like that arriving at this point in time, it's tempting to interpret the record solely in the context of the global events of the past few years, but the roots of these ten songs arc back much further in time, charged with their own personalised internal damage. Trauma, in its myriad forms, is often hard to qualify, even harder to rationalise. When something begins to go wrong, how do you gain perspective? What is a temporary roadblock, and what is unmitigated disaster? In its first phase of life, Compact Trauma was a document of a band striving to perfect an idea while the universe around them seemed to want to shut down. And then, at an impasse of sorts and with a record halfway complete, it suddenly did. If Ulrika Spacek were a band in need of the breaks applying, it was the force of a global pandemic that made it happen. As the world stood still, Compact Trauma was filed away, unfinished and unheard by the wider world, possibly to remain that way forever. And yet, there was to be a second act. If mutability is our tragedy, it's also our hope, clearer days slowly began to emerge as the bad slipped away. The wound, as the saying goes, is the place where the light enters you. The prolonged break enforced by myriad lockdowns may have separated the group but it also afforded the five time to reflect on what had already been committed to tape.. As the lights came back on and the shutters up, they found themselves drawn back towards Compact Trauma. What they rediscovered was a record that seemed to preempt the shared grief of a global pandemic. Even if the specifics were different, the themes were uncannily similar. Addressing existential freak out, displacement, substance reliance and encroaching self-doubt, these highly personalised songs suddenly took on a wider significance, speaking in part to a bigger narrative. They could have left it alone, but in coming back to what they knew, Ulrika Spacek found their best work yet. RIYL: Mercury Rev, Sonic Youth, My Bloody Valentine, Radiohead, Deerhunter, Atlas Sound, Stereolab.

"And we"re coming out of dreams / And we"re coming back to dreams" is the first thing you hear Bill say as you remake your acquaintance on YTILAER. Right out the gate, he"s standing in two places at once: meeting up with old friends behind the scenes and encountering them on the record, finding himself coming round the bend and then again as someone else on down the line. Like the character actor he played on Gold Record, writing stories about other people, telling jokes about everyone, and in singing them, becoming the songs. "You do what you"ve got to do / To see the picture" Bill"s got a full band sound going on this one, with him and Matt Kinsey on guitars, Emmett Kelly on bass and backing vocals, Sarah Ann Phillips on B3, piano and backing vocals and Jim White on drums. Jim and Matt sing on one song, too, and some other singers come in, too. Bill plays some synth here and there, and Carl Smith drifts in and out of the picture with his contra alto clarinet, as do Mike St. Clair and Derek Phelps on brass. Somehow in between them all, you might think you hear the distant sound of a steel guitar. And you might - but you might not, too. In this company, Bill continues his journey, tunneling underneath the weathered exterior of what seems to be and into the more nuanced life everything takes on in the dark. With Bill"s voice making the extraordinary leaps and bounds that measure the lives of the songs, the band follow him through passages that seem to invent themselves; other times playing with deeply soulful grooves and/or desperate intensity, as these moments come and go. There"s nothing they can"t do. "I wrote this song in five and forever / I"m writing it right now" Bill sings on "Natural Information" - an admission of the everyday alchemy he"s forever trafficking in. Time passes, triangulating the encounters that went into any one record with two out of any three others, all of it made flesh, new constitution, in our stereo speakers. If every album is its own life, it stands to reason that they"re invariably passing in the night. Cascading images flowing from the stream of consciousness. Turning like pages from the journal, unspeakably personal, then suddenly become tall tales, like a book pulled off the shelf, completely unbound. Headlines flow through. Mirror images, mirthful ones. Bill"s lyrics strain at the lines on the page, not content to separate the printing of the fact from the myth or be confined to ink on paper. They want to fly free. And they do. "I realize now that dreams are real" On YTILAER"s inner sleeve, alongside his lyrics, Bill celebrates the "exhilaration and dread" of cover artist Paul Ryan"s paintings. Paul"s another one met up with again down the road, his indelible cover imagery on Apocalypse and Dream River now an axis of meaning in the Callahanian world - and in the bright colors found in these new images, a parallel to Bill"s recognitions here. "A breath of exquisite air as we come up from drowning", sounds like the desired hope for those hearing the songs of YTILAER.

China's leading post rock band Wang Wen are releasing their 12th album on March 10th, the follow-up to much acclaimed 2021's "100.000 Whys" "Wang Wen's new album Painful Clown & Ninja Tiger is named after the traditional Chinese method of chronology year name (DEDF & DEDD).The two years just passed by. The sexagenarian cycle of the Chinese calendar is like the FE- against-FD polyrhythm in music. Two separate paths that travel six times through the Heavenly Stems and five times through the Earthly Branches and then reunite. However, this is just a superficial interpretation. The reality is the dark side has been approaching and countless miserable accidents occurred in front of us. All the savage and dictatorship come back, repeating itself over and over again in a dead loop in the history, which becomes less distant and fuzzy nowadays. They are not just "years","people" or "places" that we read in books. They jump out suddenly in front of us, turning into vivid and bare details that we are confronted with every day. To put it simply: this album was composed and recorded in those two years, and it records the life experience of the band in those two years, hence the name. For fans of RADIOHEAD, MONO, 1099, RADARE, CONDOR GRUPPE, GODSPEED YOU! BLACK EMPEROR, CASPIAN, IF THESE TREES COULD TALK Limited (130 copies ww) Single Colour (Transparent Orange) Edition!

When the pandemic hit, Hannah van Loon adopted a dog named Gizmo, who became a much-needed companion while the Bay Area musician wrote her second album as Tanukichan. Aptly Named after her new four-legged friend, GIZMO is an exercise in release, whether from situational hindrances—a forced lockdown, for one—or from self-imposed hedonistic coping mechanisms.“ A theme I always had floating around was escape,” van Loon explains of her follow-up to 2018’s Sundays. “Escaping from myself, my problems, sadness and cycles.”

To channel the more uplifting spirit she wanted for GIZMO, van Loon turned to the radio pop-rock of her childhood: “I was struck by the in-your-face positivity of the lyrics,” she adds,referencing artists like 311, The Cranberries, and Tom Petty. “I wanted to bring that positivity while writing about the sad and helpless emotions I’d been grappling with.” But GIZMO’s lightheartedness doesn’t make it shallow: “I think that I could let it go, as beautiful as snow,” she murmurs on “Don’t Give Up,” a nu metal-meets-Cocteau Twins groove about the sudden awareness that all the relationships you depend on could vanish instantaneously. Van Loon’s main collaborator on GIZMO was Toro y Moi’s Chaz Bear, and the jangly pop earworm “Take Care” showcases the heavily distorted, in-your-face guitar work reminiscent of Bear’s own psych joints What For? And Mahal. On the hypnotic, wall-of-sound-rocker “Thin Air” featuring Enumclaw, van Loon channels the triumphant grit of The Smashing Pumpkins as she ponders the impermanence of even the most impactful relationships: “I’ll always have the memories/Of how you used to make me see/Until they fell in the ocean/They’re not swimming/They’re not floating.”

Existentialism aside, GIZMO also sees van Loon break out of her sonic comfort zone. “One ofthe main changes of how I’m approaching music now is that I want to have more fun in the process,” she says, and she walks the line between melodrama and whimsy gracefully: “I can learn something because I’ve been here before,” she sings on the soaring, bittersweet “Been Here Before.” Deftones-inspired thrash drums and screeching electric guitars are gracefully contrasted with van Loon’s hypnotic, almost deadpan vocal style and a crystal clear acoustic guitar she describes as “cute.” Gizmo the dog suddenly passed away right as van Loon finished the album, but he’s immortalised with his photo on the cover—a fitting emblem of this new era of Tanukichan.

Everything began with a chat between Systematic label head Marc Romboy and his long time friend Paolo aka Dusty Kid. During the pandemic times they reminisced about the most exciting period of techno music, the beginning of the 90s and exchanged tracks which have blown them away. They listened to tracks on labels like R&S, Plus 8, Industrial Strength and all over sudden they came to the idea to create a concept where Dusty Kid would put his hands on four of his most favorite tracks from 1992 and 1993. The result is this Various Artists track album including new interpretations of four classic tracks which changed their lifes and were, have been and still are iconic. Check every single track and jump into a time machine which transfers you to the early 90s and the future at the same time

Electronic music legend and head of Editions Mego, Peter Rehberg, teams up with zeitkratzer mastermind Reinhold Friedl. 3 side-long pieces melting electronic / contemporary avantgarde. Uncompromising.

When Peter "Pita" Rehberg and Reinhold Friedl first met each other, they did not like each other "at all," as Friedl emphasises with a hearty laugh. The two would however eventually bond over the years thanks to a mutual respect for each other's music. In the summer of 2021, they entered the studio together for the first time. Their joint album for Berlin's Karlrecords is a faithful document—no editing, no overdubs—of their improvisations during two recording sessions shortly before Rehberg's sudden and untimely passing on July 22nd of that year. The three pieces see Rehberg working with electronics and Friedl with his inside piano, proving that they had indeed managed to find a common ground—up to a point where it at times becomes hard to tell who plays what on this record.

Friedl ran into Rehberg in Zbigniew Karkowski's tiny Tokyo apartment in 1999 while organising the first edition of the Off-ICMC that was set to take place in the following year. "I came uninvited and slept a night at Zbigeniew's before Peter arrived and I had to move out," remembers Friedl, who ended up inviting the Mego founder to perform at the Off-ICMC even though he found it hard to relate to his music. "We had very different backgrounds: he came from industrial and I had roots in classical music and improv, a high-brow prick!" After having met several times at different concerts without ever really speaking to each other in the following years, a concert in Vienna in the late 2010s marked a turning point in their relationship (or lack thereof). Playing their sets back to back and loving every second of what the other was doing, the two finally clicked on musical level. "We met for dinner on each of the three following nights!," remembers Friedl.

The two would go on to become good friends, meeting regularly to discuss music and everything else while both were living in Vienna just a few minutes away from each other. Rehberg put out Friedl's collaboration with Eryck Abecassis, "Animal Électrique" on his Editions Mego label in 2020 and eventually they entered the studio twice for sessions that were completely improvised with no prior preparation. "Caciara," "Chiasso," and "Clamore"—named retrospectively after three Italian words for "noise"—capture the spontaneity of two artists who had always been outliers in their respective fields finding a common ground in sprawling dynamics and sonic intensity as well as enabling each other to expand their individual sound palettes. "Peter gave me cover," explains Friedl. "I had the feeling that I was able to do things I otherwise wouldn't play."

On her third album, Berlin-based Dutch-Italian composer and sound designer Aimée Portioli, aka Grand River, asks what guiding forces might be driving, enticing, and affecting us. “All Above” is rooted in her deeply personal philosophy as an artist, blurring the boundaries between electronic music and acoustic music and sculpting familiar ambient forms into personal themes painted with rich emotional colours. Written painstakingly over the last two years, the album is the most ambitious and divergent set of music Portioli has assembled so far, with a wide variety of instrumentation (including voices, strings, organs, guitars, and synthesisers) focused around the piano. She‘s keen to assure listeners that while that instrument isn‘t always heard, it‘s constantly at the forefront of the album, shepherding its emotions and anchoring its mood. It makes sense then that on the opening track ‘Quasicristallo’, the acoustic piano is the first element we hear, recorded closely, so its characteristic rattle and creak can speak as loudly as the familiar tones themselves. When the music blooms into abstraction and processed electronics, it‘s almost imperceptible: reverb mutates into ghostly vapour trails, and distortion forms the keys into another instrument entirely.

“All Above“ follows 2020‘s acclaimed “Blink A Few Times To Clear Your Eyes“ and 2018‘s “Pineapple” released on Donato Dozzy and Neel‘s Spazio Disponibile imprint. Having garnered praise from outlets like Resident Advisor, XLR8R, The Quietus, Inverted Audio, and The Verge, Portioli operates in a unique space within the electronic music scene, straddling the art world and the wider electronic music scene. She‘s developed sound art installations for Rome‘s La Galleria Nazionale and the Terraforma Festival-related Il Pianeta, and has appeared at Barbican, MUTEK, Le Guess Who?, Kraftwerk, and other internationally renowned venues and festivals, often collaborating with Marco Ciceri on A/V presentations. Ciceri also maintains the visual identity of Portioli‘s label One Instrument, a concept imprint that asks artists to create music only using a single device. All this experience is poured into “All Above”, a richly visual album that‘s far more than just an imaginary film score. While on ‘Human’, her piano punctuates a rhythmic synthesised bassline and smudged choirs that can‘t help but trace out the silver screen. The composer is keen to clarify that she doesn‘t think of her music (or sound in general) in visual terms.

Portioli studied as a linguist and used her art to develop an emotional language that‘s not bound by expected cultural constraints. When she adds a different instrument or process, it‘s not to reference a visual cue but to mark a journey through different states of being. Each element embodies a different emotion or mood: the electric guitar represents strength or violence, synthesisers shuttle us into the dream world, and the acoustic instruments highlight intimacy and warmth – even heart. Read like this, the tracks are like meditative poems rather than cinematic vignettes: ‘The World At Number XX’ is seemingly centred around a chugging synthesised arpeggio, but the cosmic, Klaus Schulze-esque pads, strangled guitar and evocative organ tones hint at the open-hearted, literate psychedelia of the 1970s; ‘In The Present As The Future’ meanwhile is breathy and windswept, juxtaposing urgent rhythmic phrases with light, flute-like gusts of harmony.

Dedicated to Editions Mego founder Peter Rehberg, who died suddenly last year, “All Above” demands engagement and refuses to evaporate into the background. The album asks listeners not just to absorb the album as a whole but notice the cracks in the structure and discern the tension they cause. That‘s never more evident than on the closing track ‘Cost What It May’, a piece of music almost jarring when Portioli chops into noisy waves of electric guitar. In the wrong hands, this might sound like a power move – some rock posturing to act as a finale. But Portioli‘s expression is different. She‘s forcing a level of engagement that perceives the negative space as just as necessary as the saturated positive, and what could be more haunting and emotionally resonant than that?

Composed, produced and mixed by Aimée Portioli.
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu.
Cut by Andreas Kauffelt at Schnittstelle, Berlin.
Photography by Federico Boccardi.
Design and layout by Riccardo Piovesan.

‘Change’ is the brand-new album by Anika, the first solo music from theBerlin based artist in 8 years.
A British ex-pat and former political journalist, Anika has collaborated withBEAK>and Tricky and released two albums with Mexico City’s Exploded.
View to great acclaim. The single ‘Change’ tackles personal growth as well as wider issues and grapples with eternal questions as to whether one can ever truly change.
It has been 11 years since the release of her last solo album, 2010 cultfavourite ‘Anika’; she suddenly found herself with a lot to say. “This album had been planned for a little while and the circumstances of its inception were quite different to what had been expected. This coloured the album quite significantly. The lyrics were all written there on the spot. It’s a vomit of emotions, anxieties, empowerment and of thoughts like - How can this go on? How can we go on?”
The intimacy of its creation and a palpable sense of global anxiety are
seemingly baked into the DNA of Change. Spread across nine tracks, the central feeling of the record is one of heightened frustration buoyed by guarded optimism. The songs offer skittering, austere electronic backdrops reminiscent of classic Broadcast records or ‘High Scores’-era Boards of Canada, playing them against Anika’s remarkable voice - Nico-esque, beautifully plaintive and - in regards to the record’s subject matter - totally resolute. Incantatory tracks like ‘Naysayer’ and ‘Never Coming Back’ are both a call to arms and a warning. “‘Never Coming Back’ was written after reading Rachel Carson’s ‘Silent Spring’,” she explains. “I was living in the old East countryside outside of Berlin, where there seemed to be no shortage of birds. Apparently their numbers have dropped significantly, but it is one of these changes that we never really stop and notice. We take things for granted, until it’s too late. With all this other noise
going on, care for the environment has quickly been moved to the backburner. So long as we get what we want NOW and on demand, who cares about whether we are taking care of the future?”

Alt-rap dissident Jam Baxter announces his newest solo venture, Fetch the Poison. Conceived during a state-wide alcohol ban in Mexico, the album is Baxter’s first to be composed in complete sobriety — though his hallucinatory style of storytelling and cast of monstrous characters make a welcome return. Lyrics on Fetch the Poison meld Baxter’s Latin American experience with visions of a grisly alternate dimension: sun, sea and glittering vistas are sullied by hollow-eyed addicts, shady bar tenders and duplicitous lovers. Amongst deft bars, the rapper includes a number of spoken word pieces that echo the prose in his now sold out book Off-Piste. The album also features Blah Records' Nah Eeto & Black Josh, as well as DJ Sammy B-Side and Jehst, alongside Brazil’s NOG, Black Alien and Xamã. Baxter reunites with frequent collaborator Chemo on production — now under the moniker Forest DLG — for much of the album, with appearances from Jack Danz, Dr Zygote, Wundrop (CMPMD) and Midlands' electronic stalwart Lenkemz. Despite its diverse credits, tracks are connected by icy, spaced-out electronics with beats twisted through tape distortion and anchored by chest- rattling bass. Baxter began writing the album in Mexico just before the pandemic began while holed up in the city of San Cristobal De Las Casas, Chiapas, as the world shut down. “All the streets were eerily empty and it was amazing. I had the city to myself,” he says. “Then suddenly there was a state- wide alcohol ban and I could no longer casually sip tequila as I went about my business. I didn’t really have a choice but to write” With no alcohol to fuel him, and San Cristobal largely silent, the rapper says he was surprised to find himself in a deeply creative — and prolific – state. “I took to it amazingly well, and I wrote this whole album in three months of clear-headed bliss in the same apartment. I would sit and write all day, and occasionally walk up a mountain when I got stuck ... or go and feed the stray dogs at the church on top of the hill. It was weirdly the most fun I’d had in years.” Fetch the Poison is Baxter’s seventh solo album.

After a year and a half writing and recording rock music, I needed to clear my head. I listened to and made music where things generally happen gradually rather than suddenly. I would set up patches on a Monomachine or Analog Four and listen to them, hearing one sound morph into others, making changes to a patch only after having listened for quite a while, gradually adding elements, and finally manipulating the sounds on the fly. All tracks were recorded live to CD burner, with no overdubs, and executed on one or two machines.

While I was almost exclusively listening to artists such as Chris Watson, Peter Rehberg, Bernard Parmegiani, CM Von Hausswolff, Jana Winderen, Oren Ambarchi, Hazard, Bruce Gilbert, Klara Lewis, Ryoji Ikeda, and so on, I was also inspired by my mental image of John Lennon's tape and mellotron experiments he made at home during his time in the Beatles, as well as events like the first minute of Bowie's Station To Station, ...And The Gods Made Love by Jimi Hendrix, the synths in the song Mass Production by Iggy Pop, and the general idea of Eno's initial concept of Ambient music.

Music being a solitary sculpture in sonic space was the main motivating thought. I was looking at pictures of sculptures and trying to make music that simultaneously conveyed both movement and stillness. I refrained from sudden musical changes, especially avoiding sequences of notes and rhythms. In fact, this music was made from sequences which never exceed a single note, many of these pieces being made on a single pattern. The movement which a good sculptor conveys when the shape of his medium meets the eyes of the viewer who walks around the piece, or the sun changes its position, are the kinds of movement which it was the role of the synth patches to communicate.

I've been listening to music like this since I was 13 or so, but I felt that making it was out of my reach because of the amount of restraint I imagined it required. Once I found myself making this music, it did not feel like a matter of restraint at all. I wanted to build a certain type of building, and hear certain types of movement, and I knew when it was complete. There was no place for sequences of notes and rhythms in my plans.

I also cannot overstate the role that being in my band played. I had previously spent 12 years programming and engineering my own music, and then spent a year and a half making music where my role was basically to write songs and play guitar. When the band's recording phase was completed, I needed to go back to my adopted language. I had done enough with chords, rhythms, notes, defined sections, sharp transitions, etc.. What I needed was to create music from the ground up with nothing but sound, and have that music reflect "being" rather than "doing". It was a therapeutic way of re-balancing myself, before and during my band's mixing process.

This music seeks to just exist, and is not attempting to manipulate or grab the listener in any way. I believe it works well if one listens loud and focuses on it, but also works well at soft volumes and in the background. It can compete with silence on silence's own terms, and it can also happily wipe silence out.

There are two versions of this album. The CD version is pronounced "two" and called : I I . This is the longer version. The vinyl version is pronounced "one", and called . I : This version is shorter, but contains one vinyl-only track. The reason the vinyl is shorter is that some of the tracks have sounds that can not be pressed on vinyl.

John Frusciante

THE ANCHORESS TO RELEASE VINYL ACOUSTIC EP OF TRACKS FROM
THE CRITICALLY ACCLAIMED 'THE ART OF LOSING'
Following the raft of "Best of 2021" plaudits for 'The Art Of Losing', Welsh
songwriter & producer The Anchoress announces the vinyl EP release of acoustic
versions of tracks from her critically- acclaimed record.'The Art Of Losing -
Acoustic EP' is out on January 20th 2023 via Kscope & features a stripped back
piano version of 'Show Your Face', 'Let It Hurt (String Quartet Version)' & acoustic
versions of 'All Farewells Should Be Sudden' & 'The Art Of Losing' plus a solo
piano take on 'The Exchange' & a special French language version of 'Let It Hurt'.
Catherine Anne Davies aka The Anchoress says: "As an album that was designed
to be listened to on headphones as an intimate journey into the physical &
psychological landscape of grief, it's been fascinating to tackle these acoustic
reworkings & explore new textures & arrangements that strip back the songs to
their essential skeletons. I hope fans will find a new connection to the core of the
songs within these acoustic versions & be excited to own them on vinyl for the
first time."
The vinyl acoustic EP release coincides with news of a series of UK tour dates:

Reissue of Amédée Ô Suriam's banger 'Hot Shot' in editted form, comes with two very dope remixes by 'Manoo'.. Sourced from the master tapes and properly remastered!

Amédée Ô Suriam was one of those flamboyant souls touched by grace. Percussionist, author, composer, singer, stylist, sculptor, the Martiniquan put his divine inspiration at the service of a hybrid and visionary creation. His sudden death in 1992, while in his thirties, left behind him "Tension Hot-Shot", his only solo release from 1989. A resolutely avant-garde track, whose fusion of traditional African and Caribbean music with the beginnings of the house movement in Europe is underlined by the subtitle "Afro House" on the A side of the EP, a term that was barely used until then. It is this mysteriously precursory track that Chineurs de House has found, remastered and reissued today, finally shedding light on the fascinating work of an artist who had fallen into oblivion.

Vocals (Tension Hot-Shot) : M.C. Kann, Amédée Ô Suriam & Marie-José FA
Chorus-Keyboard (Tension Hot-Shot) : Luther Pérau
Chorus (Tension Hot-Shot) : Prosper St-Aimé, Rémi Laposte
Synth-Bass (Tension Hot-Shot) : Fred Montabord
Saxophone (Tension Hot-Shot) : Pietro Lacirignola
Structure (Tension Hot-Shot) : Allan Dee, J.C. Broche

Mastering : Perception Mastering
Remix (Tension Hot-Shot) : Manoo
Remix (Laissez Yo) : Jonquera
Remix (Roulé) : Manoo

Written & Composed by Amédée O Suriam

Recto picture : Rail Production
Verso picture : Bruno Resdedant
Graphic Design : Patrick Richard re-arranged by Clara Carpentier
Stylists : Joseph Zim & Amadéus

Special Thanks
Joëlle Suriam, Baptiste Heiles, Gildas Lointier, Aurélien Lévêque

When Dead Horses burst on the scene with ‘Ballad For Losers’ in 2017 directly from the acid-induced foggy lands of weird Ferrara they fooled everyone from the get-go and now they are back with the aptly titled ‘Sunny Days’. These characters were here to stay, unique, oblique and oblivious. Watching them live reminds you of the highs and lows of life, a train ready to derail at any curve, literally duct taped together, that suddenly arrives on the plateau, shining in the horizon. This is when it’s important to not blink, because mark my words, you might miss the rapture, even just a minute of pure forceful magic, where everything comes together, the peak and the ecstasy hand in hand.
Their new record is once again an incredible mix of primitive-punk, Gun Club marshlands, country sadness and acid-folk that sways from the rays of light of the Vaselines to the dawn comedown of the Meat Puppets.

In ’s words:
A music journalist on the new Dead Horses record would write: a concentrate of early swampy grunge, mixed with the Californian folk psychedelia of the 60s and the folk-blues of the Appalachians, with a tune that even Piero Ciampi may have written.
I am not a music journalist so these are my words: sweet and sad songs and soundscapes that embrace you and transmit human warmth to you. This is what music should be for, to warm you up, to excite you.

With magical chemistry and crystal clear singing, Lily Arbor invites you to
a music experience without facades that feels both genuine and
vulnerable
To their tunes, the contemporary gray curtain suddenly opens to reveal that our
hopes and dreams are within an arm's reach. Felicia Darhult Störby and Lovisa
Nilsson have with skillfully composed songs and accurate lyrics proven that they
are a musical act to count on.Lily Arbor is a Swedish folk-duo formed in 2017 by
longtime friends Felicia Darhult Störby and Lovisa Nilsson. With a harmony
driven, heartfelt sound, complemented by deeply personal lyrics, they have been
described as "a music experience without facades, that feels both genuine and
vulnerable".The duo met in high school and bonded quickly. After high school,
they went their separate ways, traveling the world. After two years apart they
started writing music together as Lily Arbor.
The duo reuniting instantly proved to be fruitful, and the self produced debut EP
'Longing for the Sun' was released in 2019, followed by the single 'Where are you
going'. In early 2020 the second EP 'Better Minds' was released, also this self
produced.
This fast paced surge of creativity combined with a natural proneness for
songwriting led to praise and participation in Swedish media. It also let the duo
tour both Sweden and the world, opening for acts such as Israel Nash, Cordovas,
Sarah Shook & the Disarmers and Joshua Radin.
They had big plans for the year of 2020 and were going to play in Europe, but
everything was cancelled. They decided to record their self- titled debut album
instead.
The duo got their revenge and were touring in Europe in 2022 and in January
2023 we finally see the release of their debut album.

More than one of Jack's many nicknames, Zagg is also a shout out to her
uncanny ability to select an unanticipated word or musical flourish, her
disarming poetic acumen, her ability to zoom in and out at lightning
speed and spin a phrase into a mantra, or the opposite of a mantra
Each song on this record is its own unique little world, keeping a listener
delightfully off-kilter throughout the entire affair.
Opening track 'FMK' operates likes a sonic thesis statement. For a quiet moment,
Jackie's confessing her recurring mother-in-law dreams and initiating a suddendeath round of Fuck Marry Kill. Then on a dime she somersaults into rocket-pop
posture, ready to cut loose and head to the movies with her best boogie- boy:
'Let's go to the movies and dance a little…you can share my Twizzler…Let's go to
the movies, you can dance at the movies!!!' The charging, industrial pop of 'Get
Out' is augmented with punching strings that are both lovely and foreboding. In
the lithe, Rickie Lee Jones-nodding 'Yesterday's Baby,' a giant foot-shaped cloud
looms in the mouth- shaped sky and Jackie gets microscopic — 'Why don't you
just let it burn out/Toss that glass of wine out/Stamp that Camel Light out/Shut
your mouth up shut up your mouth.' After a few more dances, deep diaphragmatic
breaths, and Blood on the Tracks winking ballads, knock-out marathon track 'Keep
Runner' gives it straight to some Wile E. Coyote tomfool who's out getting his butt
blown up again." The energy of the record, I think, comes from finding out Patti
Smith didn't make Horses until she was 29. Extremely influential Wiki experience.
Oh, and Adam Green, my all- time favorite songwriter and artist, painted me
looking like a doctrinal seer peering into a cartoon mirror for the cover.
Pressed on Transparent Yellow color vinyl.

Few musical discoveries in recent years - perhaps ever - have been as staggering as that of Soap&Skin aka Anja Plaschg. The sheer force this young artist (she is only eighteen) injects into her compositions almost beggars belief, her songs consuming every last drop of her with no regard for grace or beauty. They say I'm different – and they have been saying it about Plaschg since she was a little girl in the small South Steiermark village of Gnas, where her parents had a pigfarm. With her punkish looks, ripped clothes and nihilistic attitude to match, she felt like the archetypal outsider, hating piano lessons until hitting her teens when, all of a sudden, piano playing became her elixir. Anja began practising for 12 hours a day, took up the violin as well and composed her first classical pieces for the village music school. Her older brother installed a sound programme on the computer for her to play around with, and having figured it out for herself, she experimented with productions.Soap&Skin's first album “Lovetune for Vacuum” is a logical progression from her previously released pieces, an unwavering line of drama, inner conflict and melancholy. The impact of this debut lies in its paradoxicality: remarkably mature on the one hand, yet feeding on unbridled youthful exuberance on the other. The songs you find on the album have been written between 2005 – 2008 and have been recorded back at Anja’s place - mostly just by herself.

Just a single album and a bunch of singles, rising star Linda Di Franco debuted in 1985 and left the scene all of a sudden in 1986. Her first album was a combined effort produced by Don Was (Blue Note’s Renaissance Music Man and previously leader of post disco combo Was Not Was), a gentle selection of soul-pop ballads and lushy synth arrangements. With leading single ‘My Boss’ the album shows an ethereal continuum with an excellent rendition of Burt Bacharach ‘The Look Of Love’. Recorded in London, Detroit and New York the Rise Of The Heart is definitely a keystone in the rising club culture revolution verging on the more existentialist pop aesthetic. RIYL: Sade, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Carmel, Antena.