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Cocoon Recordings presents: Cocoon Compilation T

Limited Vinyl Box Set including 6x blue vinyl & download code

Another year, another expertly curated compilation touches down courtesy of Cocoon Recordings. Somehow, the world keeps turning and with it the Cocoon universe keeps expanding, causing subtle yet persuasive shifts in the sonic soundscape that continue to
capture and captivate the imagination. In time-honored tradition the old guard and the new combine with devastating effect, to define the current state of play…
Veteran Techno producer Stephen Brown makes it clear the compilation series is back with a bang, opening things up in epic fashion with the lucid dreamscape ‘Level Steps’ - a true work of art. Another heavy-weight hitter steps straight up in the form of Claude von Stroke, who adds his own unique swagger to proceedings with those trademark shuffling beats and freaky, hypnotic bleeps scuffling for dominance on ‘Moody Fuse’. Denis Horvat then slows things down on ‘Monomono’, with post-raveNew Release Information
abstractions and disobedient synth-patches causing mayhem before the track finally unfolds in all its terrifying beauty.
Motoring on, the collection wastes no time reaching that familiar tipping point as we enter the techno phase of the journey. A very special appearance from Daniel Avery makes it all the more worthwhile amid a dense forest of chiming melodies and blistering electrical surges on ‘Your Future Looks Different In The Light’, before Jeroen Search’s aptly titled ‘Subversive Elements’ lead us deeper and
deeper, into the matrix.
Marco Bailey then kicks off a triptych of trance with some massive filtered piano action on ‘Kanai’ that’s destined to trigger a serotonin smile with everyone it touches. Revisiting the huge,
ever-growing pulsating brain of planet Orb, Damiano van Erckert continues the loved-up vibe on the gorgeously titled ‘500 People 500 Hearts 1 Love’, expertly complimenting the classic ambience with
some slick 909 snare and cymbal interplay. The melodic pull of ‘Vision99’ then signifies that the party is peaking at just the right moment as YOKTO concocts a glistening, psychedelic groove. The
emotional resonance climbs ever higher with brittle melodies endlessly circling a lush, throbbing bass drone to create the sense of something stirring out of reach.
Just when you think the acid sound is done and dusted, up pops a track like Jonathan Kaspar’s ‘CCC’ that somehow manages to offer an entirely new perspective. Riding in on a wave of expectant
arpeggios, the squelching bass and noise filter go toe to toe before Kaspar gets busy with a freaky tempo excursion that’ll be destroying dance floors all year long. ‘The Art of Electronics’ is, as the title
suggests, another superlative example of pure analogue fire, served up by UK legend, Andrew Meecham aka The Emperor Machine. The funk starts to flow as the bass drops, the machines cut loose and a swarm of cascading bleeps ride the trans-europa express to oblivion.
Electro overlord Carl Finlow, has come to define the UK take on the genre over the last couple of decades. Here, he makes his long overdue label debut, taking us into the closing straight with a
nervous sliver of dystopian futurism, complete with molten basslines and a fuzzy logic that underpins the tight, laser-guided groove on ‘Surface Control’. DeFeKT then draws this great adventure to a close
with the deliciously dark robo-disco overtones of ‘Terraform’ creating a dusky landscape that skillfully seduces the listener before the tension finally breaks in a wash of ecstatic chords.
All in all, it’s a supremely ambitious collection of tracks, generously featuring some of the most inspirational and durable artists of their respective generations. In fact, is this perhaps the best Cocoon
Compilation to date

Smokey Vinyl

Dynamic Reflection proudly presents a new vinyl release on their Limited Series (vinyl only) from a Saint Petersburg-based producer Aleksei Nikitin, better known as Nocow. In true Nocow's fashion, the album encapsulates an array of intertwined genres that goes beyond techno and results in a refreshing take on techno music.

Ambient drones, tribal undertones, UK garage influences and 90's aesthetics are among some of the impressions we've gotten from the project. On "ILES" he shows such a diverse spectrum of electronic music sub-genres is something that comes naturally for the artist, who is known for his versatility in music production. In the words of Nocow himself, this allows him to express his ideas to a higher degree of freedom.

The music on "ILES" serves as a language of subconscious that simultaneously brings out thoughtful reverie and the feeling of saudade. It is an emotional experience that connects the sense of nature's mysticism with the notion of human self, which allows for the listener's inner dialogue in a moment of reflection.

Nocow's music solidified him as a prominent artist within the contemporary techno scene and his new album is yet another proof of it. We are fascinated by the project and feel certain you will be mesmerized by the sonic world of "ILES" as well. We hope you enjoy this as much as we do.

Love,

Paul & Dave

Translucent purple 180 Gram vinyl with Download card including all 12
tracks that appear on the CD
Over a 45-year career as one of the world's top blues musicians, Ronnie Earl has
transfixed audiences with his distinct sound of emotion-laden blues. On his own
and with his band The Broadcasters, Ronnie is a four- time Blues Music Award
winner as "Guitar Player of the Year," with 28 albums and multiple chart-topping
compositions in his catalogue.
Ronnie sets the songs of this album into context with a quote from Rev Dr Martin
Luther King Jr prominently placed in the album art: "The Blues tell the story of
life's difficulties, and if you think for a moment, you will realize that they take the
hardest realities of life and put them into music, only to come out with some new
hope or sense of triumph."
These songs present triumphant Blues - uplifting and hopeful songs that point to
a better tomorrow, including "Soul Searching," "A Prayer for Tomorrow," "The Sun
Shines Brightly" and "Your Love Keeps Lifting Me Higher And Higher." Celebrating
artists who have contributed to the theme of hope, Mercy Me includes "Blues for
Ruthie Foster," "Blues for Duke Robillard" and "Dave's Groove" (co- written with
Dave Limina).

Having initially met more than a decade ago at a local community radio station, sometimes doing guest slots on each other’s live, improvised noise shows, Cormac Culkeen and Dave Grenon knew they had a mutual interest in working with sonic textures. They listened to each other’s bands for a handful of years, and in 2017, “made good on a threat” that they’d been making for quite a long time: to start a band. At Cormac’s gentle but clear urging—declaring that they’d gone ahead and booked a space in which to record a video—the two wrote their first song, “Sebaldus,” an ambitious 12-minute trip, which also serves as the fireworks finale to their self-titled debut album. With surges of pathos that smooth out into something more soothing in turn, Cormac goes: “The hunter, you’ve seen him / The archer, his arrows are strong / And hunger, you’ve known her / I know the winter is long.” The track is as much about enduring a Canadian winter as it is about the eponymous 8th century hermit, shot through with sublimated desire. As Cormac put it, Joyful Joyful’s songs are “a little bit outside of time.” But while the lyrics beg close, oblique reading unto themselves, there’s also a distinct sense that they’re only one of many more ways that the duo shapes sound. Cormac, whose voice is like a sea with irregular tides, lights up about an idea in traditional sean-nós Irish music that songs already exist and are out there; it’s up to the singer to become the conduit. This belief in music as something to be channelled, and something more than sound, resonates with the singer’s fundamentalist religious past. To paraphrase: lots of group singing, harmonies, no instrumentation, totally unmediated, no priest, congregational—not choral, not a performance, not about talent, the spirit moves through people. “Of course that informs how I think about singing,” Cormac says. So, when they were exiled from the church because of their queerness, they took the music with them, dislocating it from its dogmatic bounds but not from its transcendent potential. This record might be thought of, then, as a kind of queering of sacred, devotional traditions—or at the very least, a space where all of these things can be held at once. Perhaps perceivable by some as contradictions, these intersecting influences create the conditions for an incredibly singular sound. Dave is steady and exploratory in his handling of this multiplicity, arranging sounds as they’re revealed, corralling them, coaxing them into form. “Because Dave is there,” Cormac says, “I get to sing three times higher, and three times lower, and faster, and backwards, and all of these sounds! That are there. They’re all there.” When asked about early musical memories, Cormac recalled an immediate fascination with harmony: from demanding that the first person they ever heard singing it explain what they were doing, to always (still, to this day) singing in harmony with their twin sister around the house, to being part of a children’s choir that sang soprano in Handel’s Messiah—not realizing until they entered the room with all the other ranges that their learned melody was but one part of the whole. Just as tellingly, Dave reflects on his early attraction to “abstraction and becoming abstract,” describing childhood afternoons messing with microphone and speaker feedback loops, producing long, enduring sounds with almost undetectable variations. In a way unique to the coalescing of these two listeners, notions of harmony are central to their output. Dave samples field recordings, old keyboards and synths, and vocal drones, running the live singing through four or five parallel effects chains, sampling and treating everything again in the moment. “Another way to put it is that Cormac’s voice comes into the board and then comes back out shifted, delayed, and shattered; Cormac and I hear it, live with it, and respond,” Dave says. This work is contingent not only on a deep intuition (neither of them read sheet music) of polyphony and due proportion (something St Thomas Aquinas famously listed as an attribute of beauty) but also on their connection to each other and ability to read subtle cues. Dave says they’d hold each other’s hands while performing if it was more convenient to do so, riffing on something else Cormac mentioned about traditional Irish singing: that someone would always hold the singer’s hand, for fear that without a tether to the ground they might find themselves utterly lost, unsure how to return. Joyful Joyful doesn’t shy away from offering such experiences of departure; they’re willing to unsettle their audiences because they themselves are unsettled. Their shared penchant for spooky, heavy music, and self-described “omnivorous” listening practices equip them with an array of sonic concepts that support this effort; Diamanda Galás, The Rankin Family, Pan Sonic, Pauline Oliveros, Keith Fullerton Whitman, Yma Sumac, and Catholic hymnody were just a few that came up. Observing their audience gives them insight about the effect of each song—something they considered while arranging the album. Its arc is marked by soft, sometimes sudden oscillations between cacophony and euphony, day and night (listen for insects), and from sexual, visceral entanglements to more ephemeral, celestial ones. Front to back, it arouses expansion, unraveling. Of lightning, Vicki Kirby writes: “quite curious initiation rites precede these electrical encounters. An intriguing communication, a sort of stuttering chatter between the ground and the sky, appears to anticipate the actual stroke.” By all accounts, something similar seems to happen at Joyful Joyful shows, between those on the stage and those off it, between what’s earthly and what’s beyond. “A lightning bolt is not a straightforward resolution of the buildup of a charge difference between the earth and a cloud … there is, as it were, some kind of nonlocal communication effected between the two,” writes Karen Barad, extrapolating on Kirby’s thought. Cormac acknowledges that while they and Dave play a role in this mysterious charge that comes about, they’re not solely responsible. However ineffable it may be, it’s undoubtedly a form of communion—and a sensuously shocking one at that

A question popular among followers of Thrash Metal is undeniably this, “Which is considered the fastest Thrash Metal album of all time?”. There would be a high percentage of answers supporting “Reign In Blood”, Darkness Descends” or “Pleasure To Kill”. Now here’s a startling reality. Wehrmacht’s debut album makes those albums sound as if they were meant to be listed under progressive Metal. The sheer ferocity of these guys is enough to convince you why they were considered the fastest Heavy Metal band in the underground. So what is it that makes this record worthy of being called an underground classic? Right from production to musicianship, the concoction of several different ideas results into one colossal and inevitably unique style of their own. Many of you would probably wonder that there might just be a natural leaning towards sloppy playing especially considering my description of their astoundingly fast nature earlier. But the major surprise here is that all the musicians are extremely tight and precise with no single riff, solo or beat falling out of place. Tito Matos is one of the most versatile Thrash singers one has ever heard till date. His clarity of words and ability to keep up with the rest of the band with his lightning fast singing is simply commendable. The songs in here are all ridiculously speedy pieces of Thrash Metal with practically little or no remorse for the listener. The title track with that brilliant rendition of the famously eerie “Jaws” theme kicks off the onslaught with a tearing main riff that shreds away with speed and precision. Teutonic, Bay Area and a few east coast Thrash Metal bands have been instrumental in forging the whole genre altogether but taking the intensity a couple of notches higher was undoubtedly achieved by bands like Cryptic Slaughter, Soothsayer and finally Wehrmacht. For a year that was 1987, “Shark Attack” was way ahead of its time and has been highly regarded as the release that influenced many a band in the Grindcore and Black Metal genres. To testify this statement of mine, U.K Grindcore pioneers Napalm Death have covered Wehrmacht on one of their studio compilations, thus proving the exemplary effect this band had in the years to come. Yet the irony still stands out as to why only the most devoted of Thrash Metal/Crossover freaks know about this band. As for some of you guys, quit wasting your time listening to the senseless offshoots of Grindcore and shitty Black Metal and get a hold of this classic instead.

Less than a year after their debut, Brazil’s Lasso returns with their second EP. While Lasso’s razor-sharp riffing and songwriting remain intact, this time around the sound is thicker and meaner, as if what was presaged in the first EP’s foreboding, ominous sound has finally come to pass. Indeed, as the world has slid into previously unthinkable depths of darkness and brutality, Lasso’s sound has evolved to match, a hard-won sense of steadiness now augmenting the anguish so palpable on their first record. Lasso also introduces a few new musical wrinkles here. A surf-y, Dead Kennedys-esque lead guitar elevates tracks like “Fechado Em Copas” and “Atarantado” to even higher levels of catchiness than their already-infectious debut, while “Mendaz” closes the record with an apocalyptic, mid-paced stomp. Desperate times call for desperate music, which makes Lasso the perfect soundtrack for 2022. Limited to 400 copies.

Historically informed violin player, prize-winning street musician, new age experimentalist, chamber ensemble performer and conservatoire deviant. The career of Valentina Goncharova (b. Kyiv 1953) shares parallels with those associated with the broader new music movement of the 20th century and the dissemination of home recording technologies.

Valentina’s was a youth spent immersed in the world of classical music study under soviet rule, first in Kyiv- later in Leningrad & now St. Petersburg, from the age of 16. With the supervision of professors M. Vayman and B. Gutnikov she learned concert violin and developed alternate playing styles alongside skilled pianists. A student of the Leningrad conservatoire during the years 1969 - 1983, her repertoire included music for violin and later expanded to contemporary music composition.

The improvisatory nature of free jazz and then-budding experimental rock circles also intrigued Valentina during this period in Leningrad. Departing from the rules of the conservatoire, she briefly performed in underground rock clubs alongside future members of the industrial group Pop- Mechanika (Popular Mechanics). This perpetual state of flux is central to the variety found within ‘Recordings Vol. 1’, though as opposed to any degree of uncertainty Valentina’s practice is one
in flux by way of earnest curiosity.

Pushing further into an exploration of solo electro-acoustic sounds, she took to home taping on a modified Olimp reel to reel recorder. Intrigued by the manipulability of dubbing and the fresh sounds of DIY effects chains, Goncharova developed pickups alongside her husband Igor Zubkov. Her infatuation with the music of Stockhausen, Xenakis, Ganelin Trio and Pierre Boulez channels through considerations of space and erratic sound design, the 3 movements of ‘Metamorphoses’ embodying this textural approach to musique concrete.

The compositional skills developed in Leningrad unfold in the romantic gestures of ‘Higher Frequencies’, whilst manipulated cello combines with synthesise keys across ‘Passageway To Eternity’.
The slow, pulsating drone soundscapes recall the likes of Robert Rutman’s US Steel Cello Ensemble or even deep listening pioneer Pauline Oliveros.

The juxtaposition of written notation and improvisatory flare is central to Goncharova’s sound world. This period of home recording documents a confluence of minimalism, free form and flirtations
with new age tropes (inc. bell chimes and cavernous vocal mantras).

Experimenting with unusual performance techniques, such as shouting into amplified cello strings, Valentina’s home studio functioned as a place to foster full artistic and creative freedom
away from any academic strictures.

Relocating to Estonia in 1984, and in parallel to the deeply personal music of ‘Recordings Vol. 1’, Valentina performed at jazz festivals and gave classical concerts across Eastern Europe. In a sense, the recordings on these discs offer only a glimpse into her lifelong body of work. Over the past few decades she has taught at Tallinn Music College, expanded and updated post- Soviet popular music repertoire, collaborated with the Russian Philharmonic Society of Estonia and given concerts and charity events alongside the Catholic Church.

Hers is a life dedicated to the exploration of sound, a career forged through careful study and ceaseless intrigue. In a time where technological interconnectedness has allowed for music of the pas
to be continually mined and evaluated through new lenses, Shukai present an artist whose tendency for private home-taping had allowed recordings to go unheard for thirty years.

"The core of confusion and upheaval that drove some of the band's most fiery earlier work, however, is replaced by a more stabilized undercurrent, a mentality that's reflected in songs not afraid to try new things and honestly explore uncomfortable feelings. When combined with exciting production and songwriting choices, that mindset helps make Feels So Good // Feels So Bad one of the Shivas' best albums.” - AllMusic "Portland, Oregon-hailing psych-surf band The Shivas accomplish another time-traveling, reverb-ridden sound that refuses to get boring. Jared Molyneux’s guitar work knows when to be bright or bashful at the right times, breaking into guitar solos that possess a late-’60s groove… The Shivas seem to blissfully flourish” - Paste "a consistent treat for the ears” - The Vinyl District "Though the psych-tinged guitar riff that drives 'Feels So Bad' was written while The Shivas were still on the road, its lyrics didn’t fall into place until the band was well into lockdown, unsure of when they’d be able to return to their most imperative true love: Live shows... Accordingly, 'Feels So Bad' permeates with a sense of urgent desperation, building off a chugging prog-rock instrumental.” - Consequence (on “Feels So Bad”) "They hooked the audience with their throwback rock sounds. The guitar strums and rhythmic drum beats were layered atop smooth and hallucinogenic vocals. The eyes can tell the take at times and there was a sparkle there that said that the band members just love doing live performances." - California Rocker "This single layers on the fuzz but keeps it dreamy, with an especially sticky guitar riff sure to lodge itself in your brain with minimal effort." - Portland Monthly (on “If I Could Choose”) “'My Baby Don’t' translates the genuine vibrant joy


of the live experience into the studio, bringing the band’s ‘60s garage rock roots, sharp pop vocal harmonies, and fervent performances along for the ride." - Under The Radar "Perfectly straddling the line between a solid-head bopping track and an introspective deep cut, The Shivas’ 'Undone' is a rock & roll gem. The track sounds straight out of the late 60s and fits seamlessly in the Portland band’s electrifying catalog." - The Luna Collective "The first time I clicked play on this track, I knew it was a yes for me." - Ear To The Ground Music (on “If I Could Choose”) "The harmonies would make the “Happy Together” Turtles blush, but the unsettling guitar doesn’t shy away from the woollier implications of the ’60s." - Willamette Week (on “If I Could Choose”) "'Undone' is just the perfect song for the good days and the bad ones." - GlamGlare "another hit" - Austin Town Hall (on “Undone”) "one of the best forthcoming albums of the year" - Austin Town Hall RADIO: #3 Most Added @ NACC - 50 official adds BIO Every working musician has had their life turned upside down by Covid-19. For The Shivas, who had recently released a new LP and normally keep a rigorous touring schedule, it was a particularly screeching halt. “We were about to go to SXSW, the following weekend was Treefort in Boise, and then we were going to open for our friends’ band on tour in the US before going to Europe,” Jared Molyneux remembers. Then everything just stopped. They were faced with a dilemma. “It forced us to adapt or just quit,” Molyneux says. “The reality is that shows are our job.” In truth, live shows aren’t just The Shivas job: they are the band’s greatest love. Shivas shows are bombastic, explosive and thoroughly communal live rock and roll experiences where barriers between the performers and their audience seem to dissolve into the sweat and sound. The stage—or the basement, or the living room—that’s The Shivas’ true element. It’s their raison d’etre. It’s their religion. The band’s live urgency may have been born in 2006, when the band’s young members—who began booking West Coast tours while still in high school—waited without fanfare on sidewalks or in parking lots, before being rushed onstage for their sets at 21-and-up clubs. Maybe it developed a little later, as The Shivas blasted their way through Portland’s storied and unsanctioned mid-aughts house show scene. Whatever the origin of their famously kinetic live experience, it’s the show that keeps them coming back after over 1,000 performances spread over 25 countries in 15 years. In those 15 years, The Shivas have grown tight-knit as a group. Guitarist/singer Jared Molyneux, bassist Eric Shanafelt and drummer/singer Kristin Leonard have all been with the band since its earliest days; guitarist Jeff City, another high school friend, joined in 2017. Together they’ve learned to thread a seemingly impossible needle: They’ve honed and tightened their performances without sacrificing the element of surprise that makes each show special. And despite touring and recording for most of their lives, they speak about their project with humility, in the DIY vernacular of their Pacific Northwest upbringing. They talk up their own favorite bands, play all-ages shows as much as possible, and bring a sort of blue-collar humanism to the live performances they relish so much. “We just want to make people feel good,” Molyneux says. “We want them to forget they have to work tomorrow.” Kristin Leonard elaborates, “The live show is all about that feeling of catharsis—in ourselves and in everyone who comes out. We’re creating this safe space where we can all let go. Where we can exhale. And it feels really good when we are able to facilitate that.” So when Covid hit, the band knew it was time for transformation. After a settling realization that live music would be grounded for the foreseeable future, The Shivas booked significant studio time with Cameron Spies, who also produced the 2019 Dark Thoughts LP. They also transformed their lives: three of the band’s four members found work with a local nonprofit serving unhoused Portland residents. They became engaged in protests and fundraisers for social justice. They spent a whole summer actually living in Portland, settling into the city they had always called home, but that sometimes felt like a temporary stop between tours. “We got into a more community-minded headspace,” Leonard says. “And that did give us some purpose. It felt cool to see everybody come together to stick up for what they believe in. It feels like an incredibly formative last twelve months.” The album that emerged from this new moment finds The Shivas reborn as a band that seems seasoned and perfectly at home with itself. There is a calm, even a hopefulness, to Feels So Good // Feels So Bad that sounds new. The Shivas didn’t write or record the album with a particular theme in mind, but one seems to have emerged: where Dark Thoughts was about confronting your demons with fearless self-examination, much of Feels So Good // Feels So Bad is about what happens once you find that peace: how being honest with yourself changes your relationships and your priorities. “I do think it’s about acceptance,” Leonard says. “There’s a weird relaxation that comes with being at peace with things you can’t control or have regrets about.” Maybe that’s why the squealing, riff-laden break-up song opener, “Feels So Bad,” is such a shock to the system. But it’s more of an exorcism than a melodrama: more a song about not being able to do the thing you love (in


this case, playing live shows) than splitting with a partner. “It’s like part of you goes to sleep,” Leonard says. As bandmates who are also in a long-term relationship, Molyneux and Leonard know that their songs might be seen as glimpses into their personal lives, but their songwriting is rarely autobiography. Leonard compares their process to something more akin to screenwriting. “There’s bound to be some autobiographical material in there,” she says. “But the common denominator is the exploration of universal feelings: ones that everyone experiences or can relate to.” The goal is to use the music to drill down into something genuine and sincere, beyond genre or stylistic affectation. That’s where The Shivas have arrived. Whatever growth led the band to Feels So Good // Feels So Bad, plenty of their fascinations remain. They’re still turning love songs into psychedelic, transcendent epics. “Tell Me That You Love Me” subverts doo-wop extravagance and dabbles in Flamenco rhythms. “Rock Me Baby” is a bubblegum anthem soaked in so much reverb that we might just be hearing it from the stadium nosebleeds. “Sometimes” is almost impossibly huge, like a witchy outtake from the Brill Building era. Those songs feel like logical expansions from a band that has always excelled at a timeless sort of rock and roll that tinkers with and explodes elements from every era. But on the towering and mournful “You Wanna Be My Man,” a slow-burning six-minute shoegaze prayer for a higher sort of love, there is a level of emotional nuance that feels like something altogether revolutionary. It’s there again in the stripped-down vulnerability of the album-closing elegy “Please Don’t Go.” Yes, Feels So Good // Feels So Bad is an album about acceptance. Sometimes that acceptance feels enlightened and sometimes it feels like the end result of a lot of kicking and screaming. The Shivas have adapted in both of those ways. With new tours scheduled and a new album on the way, they’re still hoping--like all of us--for a new era of vibrant, cathartic live music. The lessons they learned from having their normal upended, though, have only helped them grow

In over thirty years of regularly meeting with reggae artists and musicians in the UK and Kingston, I never encountered anything like the feeling of being around the Xterminator camp during the nineties. It wasn’t just the depth of talent that owner Philip “Fatis” Burrell could call upon or even the quality of his productions, but the sense of purpose he instilled in people. At times, it felt as if he and his group of largely Rasta artists had aligned themselves with a higher power - not just in their reasoning sessions, but when someone stepped to the mic and opened their heart, as well as their mouth. If you recorded for Fatis, you went into the studio empty-handed - no lyrics - and put your trust in the Almighty. That was the rule and the artists who passed through Xterminator had to really feel what they were singing or deejaying about.

Marshall McLuhan’s famous edict ‘the medium is the message’ has never been more apt than with regard to modern remix culture. Although the idea of the remix goes way back to the Jamaican dub pioneers and New York disco remixers of the 1970s, the form didn’t truly come into its own until the acid house explosion of the 1980s, when remixers’ credentials often subsumed — and sometimes surpassed — the original source material. Some, among them our lost friend Andrew Weatherall, used remixing as a springboard into multiple other directions, and became auteurs in their own right.

Forged in the white-hot heat of post-acid house Britain, these Heavenly remixes are perfectly weighted with respect and irreverence, the remixer in each case carefully chosen to add heft to the song (as on Al Breadwinner’s dubwise reworking of Mattiel’s ’Guns of Brixton’— the pairing more a game of chess than a best-of-three arm wrestle).

Although Heavenly was founded in the wake of huge upheavals in electronic music, it was still imbued with its own curious parallel life. I’ve always thought of Heavenly as one of the UK’s alt-pop labels; a place where brilliant pop bands live and record, if the general public would only realise. Some of them have ended up in the real, actual charts (Saint Etienne, Doves), but that’s missing the point about Heavenly, who are, like Factory and Fast Product before them, pop music’s conscience.

There is no sense of order to this compilation and we make no apologies. It’s the Heavenly way. Think of it as a present from Loki, the Norse god of mischief. You’ll find a smattering of older tracks: album openers Saint Etienne are taken on a Poseidon Adventure with Underworld, who inject ‘Cool Kids of Death’ with typically manic energy. Elsewhere, ’90s Brum duo Mother add dancefloor pzazz to Espiritu’s innate glamour on an all-funked-up reworking of ‘Los Americanos’, and Mark Lusardi’s remix of Moonflowers’ ‘Get Higher’ is an early Heavenly classic.

On ‘Terracotta Warrior’, a perfect, psyched-out, Mancunian union is created betwixt Jimi Goodwin and Andy Votel, whilst Goodwin cohort Simon Aldred, in his Cherry Ghost guise, receives a proper Tamla-Motowning from Richard Norris (aka Time & Space Machine) on an inspired cover of Cece Peniston’s glam-house hit, ‘Finally’.

There are several of Heavenly’s current darlings here too. One of the most exciting young British prospects, Yorkshire’s Working Men’s Club, effectively remix themselves, as Minsky Rock — WMC’s Syd Minsky-Sargeant and producer Ross Orton — cleave ‘X’ into a riotous industrial racket. Jagwar Ma’s Jono Ma takes the Kraftwerkian leitmotif on ‘Automatic’ and drives the Australian jazz-funkers Mildlife down an electro-convulsive psychedelic tunnel (thankfully no-one was harmed during the making of this remix); Sheffield’s DJ Parrot and Jarvis Cocker deliver one of the outstanding remixes of 2018, turning Baxter Dury’s ‘Miami’ into a lovelorn minor opera; and, making its first appearance on vinyl, David Holmes’ Unloved project is taken on a panoramic Welsh waltz thanks to Gwenno.


There may well be no rhyme, nor reason, to how these compilations have been put together, beyond the fact that they are assembled with love, an innate understanding of the power of great pop music, and a skilled marriage of song and remixer — but does one really need anything more than that for an album to make sense? I’d suggest not.

Triumph breeds confidence, and with confidence comes an expansion of ambition, a focus of ability, an emboldening of audacity. De-Loused In The Comatorium had risked everything Omar and Cedric possessed on the wildest of gambits, the most impossible of dreams: making sense of the riot of influences ricocheting about Omar’s head, and memorialising their departed friend Julio Venegas through Cedric’s magical realist roman-a-clef. It Clouds Hill shouldn’t have worked. But it did, and with that fiendish tightrope act successfully accomplished, the duo stretched the wire even further and higher, over a figurative fiery pit peopled with lions, crocodiles, piranha and other sharp-toothed beasts not yet known to man. Because how do you make great art without taking great risks? Frances The Mute was no De-Loused Part Two. For one thing, the band’s configuration had changed, in the most painful way. Shortly before the release of De- Loused, sound manipulator and founder member Jeremy Michael Ward passed away, a wound Omar says the group never recovered from. But even though his inspired fucking- with-the-sonic-parameters is absent from Frances The Mute, his spirit and influence can still be determined, the album’s concept derived from a diary Ward had encountered in his day-job in repossession. “Jeremy picked up lots of interesting stuff when he was a repo man,” remembers Cedric. “Weird things, including this diary, He let us read it a bunch of times. It was by a guy who’d been adopted and was searching to find his real parents. It was very surreal, it didn’t make much sense – the guy might’ve been schizophrenic – but it was very inspiring. It felt like how certain music helps you escape your boring every-day life. The names and scenes in the diary directly inspired these songs.” Some of the tracks pre-dated De-Loused, having their origins in early demos Omar recorded at the duo’s Long Beach home Anikulapo, songs such as The Widow and Miranda The Ghost Just Isn’t Holy Anymore. Cedric had heard these jams in their embryonic state and began working in his mind on what he could bring to them. “I was attracted to The Widow like you would be to a lover, right?” Cedric remembers. “I sang over it with Omar while we were touring De-Loused in Australia on the Big Day Out, like, ‘Okay, I’ve got something for this.’” A potent ballad, laden with emotional crescendos and evoking the epic drama of Ennio Morricone – an effect aided by an elegiac trumpet part performed by Flea – The Widow would become The Mars Volta’s first song to chart on the Billboard Top 100, capturing the album’s potent sorrow and widescreen sprawl in miniature. Indeed, the lush sound of the album, the depth of detail and breadth of instrumentation, belies its grungy roots. Having tasted the luxury of Rick Rubin’s mansion, Omar veered in the opposite direction when recording Frances, cutting the album in what he describes as “a shithole... Basically a warehouse with one little air conditioner on its last legs, awful wiring and a console you couldn’t rely on. We were there night and day – I would literally lock engineer Jon DeBaun in there. He slept on a mattress in the vocal booth.” A considerably more complex and ambitious album than its predecessor – four of its five tracks lasted over ten minutes in length, with its closing epic Cassandra Gemini spanning over half an hour – Frances The Mute wasn’t recorded “live” by an ensemble, but with the individual musicians coming into the “shithole” and recording the parts Omar had scripted for them separately. “They had to have absolute trust in me,” Omar remembers, “Like actors trust their director.” In addition to the core band – now fleshed out with incoming bassist Juan Alderete, and Omar’s brother Marcel on keyboards and percussion – the album featured guitar solos from John Frusciante, saxophone and flute by future member Adrian Terrazas-Gonzales, a full string section, and piano played by Omar’s hero, salsa legend Larry Harlow. “It was a childhood dream come true,” Omar says. “We recorded with him in my hometown in Puerto Rico, and my father flew in to watch the session. Larry was a perfect gentleman, and a very lively spirit.” The album’s fevered intensity infected even the staid string section, Cedric remembers. “When they performed the part on Cassandra Gemini, ’25 wives in the lake tonight’, one of the guys in the orchestra played so hard he broke his bow, this real old, antique bow. And you could see his ‘classical’ side come out – like, ‘I broke this playing a fuckin’ rock song??’ He was pissed off. But I was like, ‘Fuck yeah, man, that’s on the record! You’ve got to realise things like that are cool.’” The album also features field recordings of “the coqui of Puerto Rico” during the opening minutes of Miranda That Ghost Just Isn’t Holy Anymore. “We took a page out of the Grateful Dead’s book there,” laughs Cedric. “They recorded air. We recorded fuckin’ frogs in Puerto Rico.”

 A fascinating thing about jazz is what can arise through force of
circumstance rather than the result of planning. The drummer
scheduled to appear in a trio with Jan Lundgren at the Ystad
Sweden Jazz Festival had to cancel because of the pandemic,
which forced Lundgren to rethink the gig. The pianist - who is
also artistic director of the festival - quickly realised that things
could also work without a drummer. Serendipitously, the name
of Emile Parisien came to his mind... and a new trio was born.
The three musicians had never played together in this
configuration before; so, after a single day of rehearsals, the
band took to the festival’s main stage on 1 August 2020.
 Jan Lundgren is one of those pioneers who gave European jazz
its distinct identity and freed it from American jazz. The Ystadbased pianist combines virtuosity, an acute sense of tonal
colour, awareness of form from European classical music and
his own folk music tradition. For him, to make music where
many different genres coalesce is both inevitable and natural.
 Lars Danielsson’s bass playing is unmistakably melodic and
lyrical. He is one of just a handful of bassists who stand out
both as creative composers and as distinguished band leaders.
Technical brilliance, outstanding musical imagination and an
almost telepathic understanding of his fellow musicians - his
presence is ideal in this trio.
 Soprano saxophonist Emile Parisien found his way into this
band practically out of nowhere. The vivacious Frenchman lives
jazz with body and soul and his honesty and authenticity ring
true in every note he plays. Parisien is a visionary of jazz,
aware of its legacy but always looking forward in an innovative
way.
 This unique performance leaves the listener begging for more.
Having started this new venture so auspiciously, Jan, Lars and
Emile are surely going to want to aim even higher.
 Recorded live in concert by Mattias Dalin (Eurosound AB) at
Ystad Sweden Jazz Festival, August 1, 2020. Mixed by Bo
Savik, Jan Lundgren and Lars Danielsson at Tia Dia Studios,
Mölnlycke, Sweden. Mastered by Bo Savik.

Mixed Colored Vinyl

The London label continues to innovate with their biggest release to date.

10 tracks – 10 incredible artists adding to their string of solid releases by new and established art-ists.

Setting fire to the rage of acceptance.
–
Sublime Creatures, defiant of society’s cages, its definitions of power, beauty and status. A higher stance above bitter re-sentment. A pro-active community of thin- kers. A patch-work of empowered souls, ideas and experiences.

Directly related to one of the sentences in our manifesto, Sublime Creatures is a call to our most powerful selves.
–
The name of the label itself is about us working on bettering ourselves and being united in all our differences. “Reptile” is about our relationship with the reptilian brain and our efforts to understand what truly means to be human (tools to perfect your instinct), becoming aware of our-selves and the others around us. “House of” is a direct allusion to the “house and ball culture” movements in NYC in the early 80s.

The sense of a real family of strangers coming together around a shared sense of purpose.

**LONG OVERDUE REPRESS - CLEAR VINYL 300 COPIES ONLY** “With Ela’s music I feel emotional, engaged… I can’t help but feel she’s always looking for a sense of belonging and it
seems to inform all the music that she makes. Glasgow must have more of that belonging feeling than most
cities because she’s spent the most time here, an exotic bird in a rainy city she maybe finds a lttle bit of comfort in. It’s
a pleasure to have her here, in this awful time to be living in Britain, her illuminations feel important and hopeful. A
stubborn light; someone making great timeless music out of the humdrum of the everyday.” - Stephen Pastel
Movies For Ears is a retrospective collection of works by Polish-born, Glasgow-based artist Ela Orleans which
navigates almost two decades of songwriting in the heart of the global pop underground. This remastered collection casts
an ear over what Orleans might call the ‘pop sensibility’ within her back catalogue. Released previously on a number of
small DIY labels, Orleans’ music coincided with the explosion of auto-didactic musicians finding their voice in the age of
the blogosphere, artists emboldened by the democratisation of music-making afforded by the internet. From the outset,
Orleans’ childhood studying formal music mixed with cut-up techniques, sampling, sound-art and experimentation to
create a distinctive signature cloaked in an innate melancholy and playfulness. Fully remastered by James Plotkin,
featuring extensive sleeve-notes and rare photos from Orleans’ archive, Movies For Ears presents an appraisal of the
musician’s work, painting a portrait of an artist with an uncanny ability to evoke emotions and ghosts of memories in the
listener.
Each song pulls sunshine from its surroundings, moments of pleasure plucked from eulogies. The Season employs a
hypnotic loop with Orleans’s prophetic voice heralding the season we’re doomed to repeat. In fact the singer is often cast
as the changing protagonist in her songs: on Walkingman, a hazy ballad heavy with ennui, the narrator is laden with the
world’s weight, forever pacing a groundhog day world blank, a pissed-off actor in a Kafka-esque melodrama. On Light At
Dawn we’re in a seedy kitsch bar-room go-go scene, a ghostly rock’roll romance with shimmering percussion, poledancing
in a Lynchian half-dream. Movies For Ears’ moods straddle memory and fantasy: scratchily invoking halfremembered
exotica, the flickering shadows of europhile cinemas screens, a delicately woven world anchored in Orleans
existential meditations on longing, intimacy, solitude and the search for love. These rich textures in every song don’t
overpower some crystalised moments of emotion however: on In Spring Orleans sings simply “I have been happy two
weeks together,” summarizing that feeling of elation when emerging from a depression, a long winter. It’s a moment that
perfectly illustrates the lightness of touch and clarity in the singer’s voice.
The power of the loop and Orleans’ weaving songwriting that breaks its spell is illustrated perfectly by I Know. Over an
aching chord progression, the vocal takes flight into bittersweet loneliness, Pachelbel’s Canon played at a wedding where
only one person shows up. The repeated refrain “I know, I know” ascends to the heavens as the chords descend to the
dumps and the listener is left in the middle, happy but not knowing why, maybe a little changed, two weeks together. On
Movies For Ears, Ela Orleans lets us into a secret: the rare moments of joy to be found in the joins of the loop, the spaces
between things, the spring after the winter are the moments that last after the day has faded.

Zwerm is a Belgian-Dutch electric guitar quartet (with a backyard rehearsal shed located in Antwerp) that operates along the borders between styles and traverses traditions that are typically not convergent. Zwerm rhymes Larry Polansky with Nadah El Shazly and are galvanized by the likes of guitars pioneers like The Velvet Underground and Sonic Youth, the microtonal DYI-er Harry Partch, Middle Eastern sonorities and the prog-madness of Kind Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard. ‘Musical adventure’ is not just a hollow cliché for this quartet, but a genuine commitment. Zwerm calls itself a ‘guitar quartet’, but that can be interpreted broadly as well as with a pinch of salt: “If we want to do something on instruments we don’t really master, we’ll just figure out a way to make it work.”
Toon Callier, Johannes Westendorp, Kobe van Cauwenberghe and Bruno Nelissen all met in 2007 while working on a project with Glenn Branca. A new guitar quartet was born and it became clear rather quickly that staying in the strictly contemporary compositions lane was not for this quartet-with-five-to-six-members (an organizational chart is available upon request).
An appetite for new and lasting collaborations has been a constant theme throughout their artistic parcours. The group has shared stages with theatrical producers like Walpurgis and Post uit Hessdalen, dancers such as Ecce and with the musicians Fred Frith, Stephen O’Malley, Shiva Feshareki, Rudy Trouvé, Mauro Pawlowski, Larry Polansky, Eric Thielemans, Yannis Kyriakides, François Sarhan, Serge Verstockt and Stefan Prins. These projects have not always translated into records, but they have been decisive in creating a unique musical approach. In 2015, when Zwerm was asked by De Handelsbeurs to collaborate with Fred Frith, they proceeded to pen a few new musical sketches over which Firth sublimely improvised. In 2018 ‘Badminton in Tehran’ was released, their first record that was made up completely of only the group’s compositions.
“a basket full of buttons here
and if you push the wrong one: fear
and if you push the right one: love
or maybe none of the above”
The route that Zwerm has taken is often defined by the question “What if... ?” - like a dart thrown at a musical map, not quite blindly, but naive enough to lead to unexpected endings.
“What if we play Renaissance pieces written by John Dowland, but instead of playing lutes we play these tunes with a Telecaster – and then jam it through effect pedals and an amplifier?”
“What if we connect one hundred guitar pedals and just leave our guitars at home?”
“What if we record a record with ten different one-page-pieces that we found on the Internet?”
In 2020 our metaphorical dart landed on “What if we tried microtonality?”.
‘Microtonality’ sounds a bit creepy, but actually there is nothing to be afraid of: there are no out-of- tune notes, just alternate notes. On the continents where Western musical theory is less stringently applied, microtonality is the rule, and has become the subject of many deep and thoughtfully written theories. However for Zwerm, this phenomenon occurs in many, often surprisingly lighthearted forms. A dilapidated piano that has settled into a beautiful microtonal tuning of its own accord, enthusiastic choral singing, a guitar whose three strings are tuned a quarter-tone higher, a saz (Turkishquarter-tone lute), a maddening guitar pedal, ...
"the dreams they were convicted for telling only lies reality came after for claiming to be wise what you don’t see is what you get just never light a spark I’m a crow in the dark”
“And… what if we work with a drummer?” Enter Karen Willems - dummer, extraordinaire, and ardent player in groups, projects and collaborations galore. One chance meeting and the deal was done. It was obvious before the start that Willems was the versatile and creative percussionist-in-a-toy-store necessary for this project. And in the studio, to our delight, she demonstrated an easy dexterity when switching quickly from one idea to the next.
At the reins behind the scenes was producer Rudy Trouvé, who – during previous sessions for ‘Badminton in Terhran’, when the classically trained guitarists went completely off the rails, staring deeply and forlornly into their scores, looking for answers – was able to pinpoint the problem and get the wagons rolling in the right direction again. Completing the team were Mark Dedecker (recording)and Joris Calluwaerts (mixing).
The results are in and it’s called ‘ Great Expectations’ – a title that, in several ways, fits perfectly with these strange times.‘Great Expectations’ goes wide! Zwerm is at its best when it can run along the borders between style and across traditions that otherwise would not necessarily intersect. The most straightforward rockers have a proggy tinge while the dreamy psychedelic songs lean more toward Richard Youngs. And if a nice melody dared come to close to becoming a ‘Kit-Katjingle’, then barbs-a-la-Pere-Ubu were trailed, tracked, found and promptly embedded. ‘Heavy Machinery’ sits neatly somewhere between Captain Beefheart and Richard Wagner, and ‘On My Way To Aguno’, set to an Iranian folk song chord progression, grew into a hyper-personal lullaby. Zwerm used the saz (Turkish lute) and the sinter (Moroccan gnawa bass instrument) without falling into pastiche psychedelia, but you can still sense the orient.

"When Candy Opera first appeared on the kaleidoscopic early 1980s Liverpool music scene, by rights they should have changed the world" ~ Louder Than War
"Very welcome news as a highly underrated band who is now back with a force. While their previous output is stellar, this new single is even more commanding of attention. This is absolutely stunning, the band reaching higher than ever before" ~ Big Takeover Magazine
Sometimes it takes a while to realise what you’ve got. So it goes with pop craftsmen Candy Opera, who emerged during Liverpool’s 1980s golden age and whose new LP 'The Patron Saint of Heartache' is their first collection of new material in nearly three decades.
Ahead of that, they present 'These Days Are Ours', a rally cry of hope for the current times and the first single from this long-play, which is due for release in mid-November via European / UK label A Turntable Friend Records. The video was created / produced by James
Davies and Paul Malone.
Mixed by Grammy award-winning producer Guy Massey and featuring back vocals by Paul Simpson of The Wild Swans, the track was recorded at Elevator Studios in Liverpool.
With all the hallmarks of an enduring pop anthem, this impeccably produced, adrenalin-fuelled song captures the essence of Candy Opera’s infectious energy and celebrates life with a genuine wonder-lust, whilst delivering the excitement of their live performances.
Following the overdue release of two archival sets - '45 Revolutions Per
Minute' and 'Rarities' (released in 2018 by Firestation Records., quickly selling out of their first runs) - their new album 'The Patron Saint of Heartache' picks up where the band left off, with 14 fresh songs ready for discovery of a sound as timeless as any Candy Opera output.
Candy Opera were formed in Liverpool in 1982 and went through various incarnations before calling it a day in 1992. By 1985, the band had played alongside the likes of The Pogues, The Go-Betweens and The Redskins, as well as appearing on Granada TV.
The band's current line-up is drawn from all eras of the band’s existence and features Brian Chin Smithers (guitar, vocals), Alan Currie (drums), Frank Mahon (bass), Paul Malone (vocals, guitar), Ken Moss (guitar) and Gary O'Donnell (keyboards, vocals, percussion).
This new LP also features a swathe of friends and contemporaries, including Paul Simpson (The Wild Swans) and Phil Jones (Afraid of Mice). The result is an exquisite piece of pop craftsmanship that brings their songs into the light. This is a labour of love born of experience, but retaining the sense of wonder that brought the band together in the first place.

"When Candy Opera first appeared on the kaleidoscopic early 1980s Liverpool music scene, by rights they should have changed the world" ~ Louder Than War
"Very welcome news as a highly underrated band who is now back with a force. While their previous output is stellar, this new single is even more commanding of attention. This is absolutely stunning, the band reaching higher than ever before" ~ Big Takeover Magazine
Sometimes it takes a while to realise what you’ve got. So it goes with pop craftsmen Candy Opera, who emerged during Liverpool’s 1980s golden age and whose new LP 'The Patron Saint of Heartache' is their first collection of new material in nearly three decades.
Ahead of that, they present 'These Days Are Ours', a rally cry of hope for the current times and the first single from this long-play, which is due for release in mid-November via European / UK label A Turntable Friend Records. The video was created / produced by James
Davies and Paul Malone.
Mixed by Grammy award-winning producer Guy Massey and featuring back vocals by Paul Simpson of The Wild Swans, the track was recorded at Elevator Studios in Liverpool.
With all the hallmarks of an enduring pop anthem, this impeccably produced, adrenalin-fuelled song captures the essence of Candy Opera’s infectious energy and celebrates life with a genuine wonder-lust, whilst delivering the excitement of their live performances.
Following the overdue release of two archival sets - '45 Revolutions Per
Minute' and 'Rarities' (released in 2018 by Firestation Records., quickly selling out of their first runs) - their new album 'The Patron Saint of Heartache' picks up where the band left off, with 14 fresh songs ready for discovery of a sound as timeless as any Candy Opera output.
Candy Opera were formed in Liverpool in 1982 and went through various incarnations before calling it a day in 1992. By 1985, the band had played alongside the likes of The Pogues, The Go-Betweens and The Redskins, as well as appearing on Granada TV.
The band's current line-up is drawn from all eras of the band’s existence and features Brian Chin Smithers (guitar, vocals), Alan Currie (drums), Frank Mahon (bass), Paul Malone (vocals, guitar), Ken Moss (guitar) and Gary O'Donnell (keyboards, vocals, percussion).
This new LP also features a swathe of friends and contemporaries, including Paul Simpson (The Wild Swans) and Phil Jones (Afraid of Mice). The result is an exquisite piece of pop craftsmanship that brings their songs into the light. This is a labour of love born of experience, but retaining the sense of wonder that brought the band together in the first place.

“Easy rider, come and take me higher”. When the world seemingly crumbles around, music can provide an escape few other mediums can. For their debut self-titled LP, Velour effortlessly levitate you above the madness below, each track taking a new turn, cruising over hazy flecked skylines, bustling walkways and bleary eyed bedlam. A trajectory that takes in all of jazz’s vibrancies, blending elements of neo soul, broken beat and hip hop coupled with a much-needed sense of hope across nine deep, soul-searching tracks released via WOLF Music Recordings.

A style and sound taking influence from genres and moods, environments and experiences, Essen-based Velour stretch their legs for this, their first full length album. From the off, they nestle you under their wing with the rustling sax washes of opener ‘CLP’ before diving into an epic slo-mo burner, swooping down into the chaos as singer, Eva Czaya, wistfully narrates the scenes beneath.

Unafraid to shift pace within songs, the likes of ‘Pose’, sauntering from soulful summer groove into woozy late night affair, and ‘Tom's Garage’, that progresses from roadside recounting to grungy basement blowout, finished with a sample of jazz-tinged dusty beats, show that accomplished and adept heads rest on the shoulders of these relative newcomers.

WOLF Music mainstay Mr Fries continues to head up production for Velour, his trademark touch capturing the intimacy of Velour’s sound presenting it in a way that’s considered yet raw - nothing feeling rushed, nor cluttered. A separation and space that gives each element the room it deserves to breathe, with short interludes and skits providing the perfect bridge between tracks, guiding you through smokey jazz bars and twilight whisperings.

Moving through the album, Czaya at points wanders in a serene spoken dialogue, at others letting her voice loose, but always with an ethereal demeanour that comes off with natural ease. One of many highlights, ‘Anthony Davis’ shows off this celestial prowess whilst perfectly embodying Velour’s dream-like escapism. A pent up release of creativity, as moody bass tones mix with deft keys, rolling snares sit behind swirling saxophones.

The journey ends with ‘Luminate’, a transcendent closer laced with space-echoed vocals that reverberate around over-driven Rhodes and feverish drums. Cymbals crash, as modulated synths rise, building and building before easing you off into the night and on your way to a parallel universe.

As a body of work, ‘Velour’ is a shining example of the freedom, energy and enthusiasm of the new school of jazz that’s been captivating minds the world over. An instant on repeat staple - let go, feel the flow, it’s what we need in a time like this.

Hot off the heels of Aluxes, his 2018 Lumière Noire debut EP, young Mexican DJ/producer Iñigo
Vontier is inviting Chloé's label on a trip to the far corners of the body & mind with an album of
demented grooves, psychedelic take-offs and imaginary comic strips of mystical rituals. A
bewitching debut full-length. Mexicans may never possess the sonic science of the Germans,
the hedonistic madness of the English or the gift for synthesis of the French, but, as proven by
Iñigo Vontier's first full-length for Lumière Noire, their universe is much more exciting than
anyone would have ever thought.
The DJ/producer fully asserts his origins by brandishing the album’s title "El Hijo del Maiz" ("the
son of the corn") almost as an emblem: "in Mexico, corn is eaten daily. It has long been defined
as 'the gold of America', and I consider all Mexicans as children of corn". A spiritual and
embodied vision Iñigo's first Lumière Noire release, the four-track Aluxes, set the tone of the
young talent's distinctive interpretation of dark disco, which creeps up on the dancefloor from its
iconoclastic side. The two tracks and two remixes (one by Flügel, the other by Inigo himself)
featured on the 12" for lead single "Xu Xu" (featuring Red Axes-affiliate Xen's irrelevant vocals)
was a full-bodied confirmation that Vontier sees the dancefloor as an arena for the occult –
whether from the peoples of the equatorial jungle, the Middle East or, even from indocile
machines. But, while the spiritual element seems part and parcel of the Jalisco native’s output, it
is in no way the only ingredient of this first long-player: "this album best reflects my own vision
and spirituality, and the way I feel it" he says.
Whether contemplative or frenetic, the collection of tracks that make up “El Hijo Del Maiz” takes
the kitchen sink and throws it out the window: languid rhythms, haunted vocals, and mysterious
percussion fuel a discombobulated house set that scrambles the listener's five senses, leaving
one disoriented and exposed to the vagaries of vertigo. Following the demented, dystopian “Xu
Xu” EP, which explored an imaginary jungle that harbored Mayan and Egyptian pyramids,
Middle Eastern accents are once more present in the off-kilter “Bo Ni Ke” and its Japaneseinfluenced vocal trickery, which Moroccan flutes à la Jajouka transform into a feverish trance.
With the following three tracks, Iñigo Vontier raises himself to the same level of excellence as
the Pachanga duo (of which pride of the Mexican scene Rebolledo, is also known as a prolific
artisan of deconstruction): “Awaken”'s slumbering voice, heard as through the veil of hypnosis,
slowly introduces a techno beat which, as in follow-up “Time”, literally brings the listener to a
levitative state. In a housier vein, yet continuing in the same psychedelic, 90s-infused spirit,
“Don’t Go Back” disrupts the genre’s usual signatures with an out-of-tune keyboard that is
becoming the artist's trademark, destabilizing the listener into a drunken vertigo, with a good
helping of sexiness: "I think the sexy dimension definitely brings a kind of magic to music," says
Vontier. “I'm sure I felt this magic during my DJ sets, and I like to think that sorcerers use this
element in their practices. I might consider myself a bit of a sorcerer when I take over the DJ
booth, by the way." A mood and sound that can once again be found – in a quieter, more
bucolic version – on “Chiquitita” (feat. the flute stylings of pioneer DJ Rocca, now a partner of
cosmic disco legend Daniele Baldelli). The more cinematic, fast-paced and dreamy beat of the
no less captivating “Little Monster” might evoke the mischievous spirit of the Mayas' minor
mythological creatures, while ode to the magical herb Marijuana (feat Thomass Jackson)
proudly tramples into the debate that such a provocative title inevitably provokes: "psychedelic
drugs are powerful tools to reach a higher level of consciousness about what surrounds us, but
we must learn how to complete this psychic journey by ourselves, notably through meditation
and love.
In the end, El Hijo del Maiz is an album-length confirmation of Iñigo Vontier's uniqueness, and
his adherence to Lumière Noire's policy of letting artists fully express their vision – while letting
their passions guide their idiosyncrasies and explorations of innovative electronic signatures

This is some serious top shelf material out of Baltimore and a certified masterclass in sweet symphonic soul. Optimistics was originally released in 1970 on Turbo and it’s every bit as essential as The Chi-Lites, The Delfonics and The Moments yet nowhere near as known. Those original copies are ridiculously rare and, of course, the prices are equally ridiculous.

Optimistics is a killer LP throughout, beloved of discerning hip-hop producers worldwide and routinely championed by the legendary Pete Rock. The genius George Kerr has handled the production on what is an album of beautiful, naïve soul for mind and body. It’s bursting with goodness and, like the best of its genre, it radiates a heart-breaking ambience that cuts right to the core.

The band of Billy, Harold, James, Charles and Jerome are described on the back cover as “five young, black knights who have embarked on a musical crusade and they're gonna slay a lot of dragons along the way”. We’re not entirely sure how many mythical serpents were dispatched during the making of this album but we can certainly attest to the sense of evangelical drive.

Evergreen opener “You Put Something New In My Life” is a heart-stopping ode to a transformative love. A ballad with spine-tingling chord changes and melodic switch-ups to spare, its sweeping strings and precise drums complement the falsetto delivery perfectly.

It’s followed by the equally beguiling “Let’s Love”. Another string-drenched harmony ballad, it revolves around delicate piano and distinctive guitar lines, crying out to be recontextualised by the best sampling technicians. Closing out the A side, the wonderfully restrained “Love Is God Almighty” is harp and horn-driven, barely-there soul from a higher plain. Heavenly.

Ushering in the flipside, “Should I Let Myself Go”, sampled recently by Knxwledge, is sensational guitar-soul with a yearning that could bring the most hardened soul to tears. It’s followed by the uptempo, Temptations-funk of “Man” and quietly-great “If I Could Influence Man”, where the competing vocals ride a chugging, funky breakbeat and delicious guitar licks. The refreshing, groovy “Say It Baby” is an appropriately positive, upward looking closer. Its sentiment and feel speaks directly to both the band name and the title of this, their only album. Truly optimistic.

The whole LP is a winning blend of slow, spine-tingling ballads and joyously upbeat tracks. It’s a case of A+ vocals, melodies and harmonies over beautiful playing and arrangements. It deserves to be canonical.

This fresh reissue has been mastered with the usual care by Simon Francis and cut by the legendary Pete Norman. The artwork has been lovingly reproduced by the Be With team.

Optimistics should be known to a much wider audience. We’ve hopefully gone some way towards rectifying that.

A third of Italian production act Agents Of Time, Sharp Felon loops out of the trio's orbit to land his debut solo EP on Maceo Plex's Lone Romantic, 'Let The Game Begin' - featuring three stunt-driving cosmonautical bangers that aim to abolish all sense of gravity in the club and beyond. Breaking in at fierce speed, 'Devil Trail' attacks pedal to the metal and leaves prismatic wisps of vapor in its wake. A proper electro-magnetic dasher, the track alternates steady shooting sequences of 303-marinated bass with eloquent kosmische-indebted synth maneuvers and laser-precise breaks, all joining forces to have your feet shuffling and mind drifting up into higher spheres of consciousness in one potent backhanded caress.

A more straightforward affair, B-side opener 'Telework Titan' lifts its listener off to a further compelling state of meditative balance through a nonetheless muscular groove and epic-sized sub-bass moves. Cruising in the upper layers of the stratosphere, Sharp Felon's stamps on the accelerator of his shark-mouthed spaceship and hedgehops across craggy alien reliefs with personal hands-on skills. Intergalactic transmissions announce an imminent extra-terrestrial invasion, it's time to tune out and enter the melee. Laser guns blazing and acid stabs smoking, 'Cyber Fex' nose-dives in an enemy-occupied territory and washes over the ground brawl like a hi-tech tsunami. Purebred Donald-ian face-melter in sheer Dopplereffekt meets Arpanet fashion, this one lacks no oomph.

Boum Boum Boum! 25 years of KOMPAKT. When a record label still thrives after a quarter of a century thanks to a focus of what was expected to be a short lived music phenomenon called TECHNO, then it stands to prove two things; that it techno has taken its place amongst serious, multilayered musical genres like rock'n'roll, pop and folk music. And that KOMPAKT has never been only for techno, but KOMPAKT stands as a broad-minded, genre-defying entity that has set out to cross-pollinate all kinds of musical inventions within the realm of electronic music. Through its course, KOMPAKT has sent 'Around The World', all kinds of sub-genres, concept series and crossover adventures based on the non- negotiable 4/4 beat. And back again.

Without a doubt, the 100% kickdrum-free POP AMBIENT series is the most endearing and enduring concept that I have had the pleasure to curate. From the start, I felt there was a strong need to add a certain pop- elegance - ensouled by discourse as much as hedonism - to a sound that was recognized as 'Chill Out' music that could be heard in seedy techno club back rooms and forgotten festival areas. Over the years, I like to imagine that POP AMBIENT has crystallized into a highly recognizable trademark sound and a multi-facetted musical universe of its own.

So once again, I had the pleasure to put together this year's edition by plowing through an ocean of sonic jewelry that had been submitted from all over the world by new and old friends. The task was clear: for this special edition, I must create a homogenous listening experience that would both appeal to our trusting followers, to continue our tradition while integrating new micro facets , variations and influences from neighboring musical universes as possible. Obligatory while being innovative. Conspirative while being cosmopolitan. Albeit the headline 'Ambient' might sound a little too humble for a compilation that encompasses aspects of neo classic, atonal music and the most beautiful aural kitsch imaginable, it still helps as a necessary means of orientation in the best possible sense. Same goes for another dear tradition: Veronika Unland's abstract-floral cover design that keeps on pleasing our sore eyes year after year.

Although each and every POP AMBIENT edition doesn't shy away from diving into the relevant question of 'What is contemporary discourse music' - in the end it all boils down to that elevated moment where all theory dissolves into ambient air, into a higher state of cosmic bliss. POP AMBIENT is sacral music for non-believers.

Wolfgang Voigt Cologne, October 2018

Bum Bum Bum. 25 Jahre KOMPAKT. Wenn ein Musiklabel, das seine inhaltliche Ausrichtung im Wesentlichen auf den anfangs als schnelllebig und vor allem kurzlebig apostrophierten - hype' Techno setzt, nach 25 Jahren in jeder Beziehung immer noch voll im Saft steht, dann zeigt das zwei Dinge: Das erstens mittlerweile jeder bemerkt haben du¨rfte, dass Techno eben kein kurzftristiger hype ist, sondern vielmehr ein vielschichtiges, ernstzunehmendes Genre, das sich ebenso wie Rock'n'Roll oder Schlager fest in der Musikgeschichte etabliert hat.

Und zweitens, dass KOMPAKT nie nur ein reines Technolabel war und ist, sondern ein nach vielen Seiten aufgeschlossenes Experimentierfeld, das sich von Anfang an der Grenzu¨berschreitung und dem musikalischen Erfindungsreichtum verschrieben hat. U¨ber die Jahre wurden unter dem KOMPAKT-Signet etliche Subgenres, Konzeptreihen und Crossoverwagnisse auf Basis der unverhandelbaren geraden Bassdrum - around the world' und wieder zuru¨ck geschickt.

Eine der wohl scho¨nsten und nachhaltigsten Konzeptreihen du¨rfte wohl die bassdrumfreie POP AMBIENT-Serie sein, die ich als KOMPAKT-- Altvorderer' nach wie vor die ja¨hrliche Freude habe, zu kompilieren. Dabei hat sich u¨ber die Jahre aus dem anfa¨nglichen Bedu¨rfnis der seit den fru¨hen 90er Jahren in den sogenannten - Chilloutrooms ' grossra¨umiger Technoclubs, - Lounges' und - Muzakkneipen' entstandenen - Entspannungsmusik' etwas entgegenzusetzen, eine eher von Pop-Eleganz, Diskurs und Hedonismus beseelte, eigene Spielart ambienter Musik, eine vielschichtige programmatische Musik mit hohem Widererkennungswert entwickelt.

So hatte ich auch im Jubila¨umsjahr einmal mehr die Qual der Wahl, aus den aus aller Welt kommenden, grossartigen Klangpreziosen guter alter sowie neuer Freunde die subjektiv besten zu einem homogenen Ho¨rerlebnis zusammenzufu¨hren. Dabei ist mir immer sehr wichtig, einerseits den Erwartungen der treuen Ho¨rerschaft im Bezug auf Traditionsverpflichtung gerecht zu werden und andererseits auch immer mo¨glichst viele Mikrofacetten, Varianten und Einflu¨sse angrenzender Stile und Universen aufzugreifen. Innovativ und verbindlich. Konspirativ und weltoffen. Auch wenn der U¨berbegriff Ambient, fu¨r eine Kompilation die sowohl Aspekte von Neuer Klassik, Atonalita¨t und Kunstmusik mit den allerscho¨nsten Seelenkitschklangwelten zu vereinen sucht, zu eng gefasst ist, so hilft er doch bei der notwendigen Orientierung im besten Sinne. Ebenso wie die Tradition gewordenen, wunderscho¨n abstrakt-floralen Kunstblumenwelten der von Veronika Unland gestalteten Cover, die ein ums andere Jahr auch die Augen in Verzu¨ckung versetzten.

Auch wenn jede Kompilation sich aufs Neue an den relevanten Fragen zeitgema¨sser Diskursmusik abarbeitet, so ist der erhabene Moment am Ende doch der, in dem sich alles zu Gunsten eines - ho¨heren, kosmischen' Ho¨rerlebnisses, im wahrsten Sinne des Wortes in ambiente Luft auflo¨st.

POP AMBIENT ist die sakrale Musik der Ungla¨ubigen.

Wolfgang Voigt / September 2018

Limited Edition Clear Vinyl

Includes 12' Vinyl and Deluxe CD album, 30 page hard back book

Now that I've been to Nashville,' Kylie Minogue says with audible affection, I understand. It's like some sort of musical ley-line...'

Golden, Kylie's fourteenth studio album, is the result of an intensive working trip to the home of Country music, a city whose influence lingered on long after the pop legend and her team returned to London to finish the record: We definitely brought a bit of Nashville back with us,' she states. The album is a vibrant hybrid, blending Kylie's familiar pop-dance sound with an unmistakeable Tennessee twang. It was Jamie Nelson, Kylie's long-serving A&R man, who first came up with the concept of incorporating a Country element' into Kylie's tried-and-trusted style. That idea sat there for a little while, with Minogue and her team initially unsure about how to bring it to life. Then, when Grammy-winning songwriter Amy Wadge's publisher suggested Kylie should come over to collaborate in Nashville, a city Kylie had previously never visited, something clicked. You know when you're so excited about something,' she recalls, that you repeat it an octave higher and double the decibels I was like that. 'Nashville! Yes! Of course I would!'. I hoped it would help the album to reveal itself. I thought 'If I don't get it in Nashville, I'm not going to get it anywhere.''

Kylie's Nashville trip involved working alongside two key writers, both with homes in the city. One was British-born songwriter Steve McEwan (whose credits include huge Country hits for Keith Urban, Kenny Chesney and Carrie Underwood), and the other was the aforementioned Amy Wadge, another Brit (best known for her mega-selling work with Ed Sheeran). It was then a truly international project: Golden was mainly created with African-German producer Sky Adams and a list of contributors including Jesse Frasure, Eg White, Jon Green, Biff Stannard, Samuel Dixon, Danny Shah and Lindsay Rimes, and there's a duet with English singer Jack Savoretti.

However, the album's agenda-setting lead single Dancing was, significantly, first demoed with Nathan Chapman, the man who guided Taylor Swift's transition from Country starlet to Pop megastar. If anyone knows how to mix those two genres, Chapman does. Nathan was the only actual Nashvillean I worked with. He's got a huge studio in his house, which is probably due to his success with Taylor... there's plenty of platinum discs of her, and others on his walls.' There's something of the spirit of Peggy Lee's Is That All There Is, of Dylan Thomas' Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, even of Liza Minnelli's Cabaret about Dancing, a song which not only opens the album but sets out its stall, providing a microcosm of what is to come. You've got the lyrical edge, that Country feel, mixed with some sampling of the voice and electronic elements, so it does what it says on the label. And I love that it's called 'Dancing', it's immediately accessible and seemingly so obvious, but there's depth within the song.'

The experience of simply being in Nashville was an overwhelming one, before Kylie had even arrived. Once I knew I was going to Nashville, people talked about the place with such enthusiasm. They said without doubt I would love it and, I would come back with songs. They were sending lists of restaurants, coffee shops and bars. It really was a beautiful and genuine response and it felt like I was about to have a life changing experience and in a way, I did.' The reality came as something of a surprise, when she found a far more modern metropolis than the vintage one she'd envisaged. I thought it would be like New Orleans: little houses and bars, with music spilling out onto the street. It reminded me more of Melbourne: apartment blocks going up everywhere! The main strip, Broadway, where the honky tonk bars are, that's where the street was filled with music and it was just amazing.' Mainly, Minogue remembers the heat and humidity. It was 100 degrees. It was like it was raining with no rain.' She also relished the chance to wander around unrecognised, visit a few venerable music bars and soak in the atmosphere. I didn't get to the Grand Ole Opry or the music museums but I managed to go to a couple of the institutions there like The Bluebird Cafe and The Listening Room, and just by being there, through some kind of osmosis, you get this rejuvenated respect for The Song, and the writing of The Song. There's no hoo-hah around it. There's a singer-songwriter there, talking about the song and singing the song, to an audience who are there to listen. Although, I have to confess I was guilty of starting to clap too soon during a long pause at the end of one of the songs. The guy made a bit of a joke out of it and got a laugh from it, but I thought 'Of all people in the audience, no...''

It's probably no coincidence, therefore, that every track on Golden is a Kylie co-write, making it arguably her most personal album to date. The end of 2016 was not a good time for me,' she says, referring to well-documented personal upheavals, so when I started working on the album in 2017, it was, in many ways, a great escape. Making this album was a kind of saviour. I'd been through some turmoil and was quite fragile when I started work on it, but being able to express myself in the studio made quick work of regaining my sense of self. Writing about various aspects of my life, the highs and lows, with a real sense of knowing and of truth. And irony. And joy!'

The songwriting process allowed Kylie to get a few things out of her system. Initially, she admits, it was cathartic, but it also wasn't very good. I think I was writing too literally. But I reached a point where I was writing about the bigger-picture, and that was a breakthrough. It made way for songs like Stop Me From Falling and One Last Kiss. It also meant I had enough distance to write an autobiographical song, like A Lifetime To Repair, with a certain amount of humour. The countdown in that song: 'Six-five-four-three, too many times...'. I don't know if that will be a single, but I can just imagine a girl with framed pictures of past boyfriends, and kind of going 'Oh god, when am I going to get this right'' When she listens back to Golden, Kylie can vividly hear the Nashville in it. It is, she'll agree, probably the first time that a Kylie album has sounded like the place it was made. You wouldn't normally relate my songs to the cities. Can't Get You Out Of My Head sounds more like Outer Space than London. But Shelby '68, for example, was written in London but it was done with Nashville in mind. It's about my Dad's car, and my brother recorded Dad driving it! I don't think I'd have written a number of the songs, including Shelby '68 and Radio On without having had that Nashville experience.'

The latter, she says, is about music being the one to save you.' Throwing herself into the making of the record, she says, crystallised that idea. If there's one love that will always be there for you, it's music. Well, it is for me, anyway.' That song, in particular, carries nostalgic echoes of the golden age of Country, as heard through Medium Wave transistors and tinny home stereos in the distant past. Like any child of the Seventies, Kylie had a basic grounding in Country music, mainly absorbed from older family members. My Step-Grandfather was born in Kentucky and though he lived most of his adult life in Australia, he never stopped listening to his beloved Country artists.' If there's any classic Country singer whose imprint can be heard on Golden, it's Dolly Parton.

Kylie saw Dolly live for the first time at the end of 2016, at the Hollywood Bowl. It was like seeing the light,' she beams. It was incredible. Everyone, whether they know it or not, is a Dolly Parton fan. When I was in Nashville, I did pick up a T-shirt that said 'What Would Dolly Do' Maybe that should be my mantra.' And, whether consciously or otherwise, there's a timbre and trill to Kylie's vocals on Radio On that is distinctly Parton-esque. My delivery is quite different on this album,' she says. A lot of things are 'sung' less. The first time I did that was with Where The Wild Roses Grow. On the day I met Nick Cave, when I recorded my vocals, he said 'Just sing it less. Talk it through, tell the story.' This album wasn't quite to that extreme, but a lot of the songs were done in fewer takes, to just capture the moment and keep imperfections that add to the song. I remember on my last album, a lot of producers were trying to take out literally every vibrato they heard. And that's not natural to my voice. I mean, I can make myself sound like a robot, but it's nice to sound like a human!' Working within the Country genre also gave Kylie permission to write in the Nashville vernacular. Because we were going there, I wasn't afraid to have lines like 'When he's fallen off the wagon we'd still dance to our favourite slow song', 'Ten sheets to the wind, I was all confused', 'I'll take the ride if it's your rodeo'. The challenge of bringing a Country element to the album made the process feel very fresh to me, kind of like starting over. I started to look at writing a different way, singing a different way.'

If ever Kylie lost confidence in the Country-Pop concept, and found herself pondering This is great, but back in the real world - my real world - how will this work', Jamie Nelson was there to badger her into sticking to the path. We found a way to make it a hybrid with what we'll call my 'usual' sound. It had to stay 'pop' enough to stay authentic to me, but country enough to be a new sound for this album. The closer we zoomed in, and the more we honed it, I knew Jamie was right. We sacrificed good songs that weren't right for this album, because we wanted it to be as cohesive as possible. The songs that were hitting the mark were these ones, so we decided to be strong, and that's how we wrapped up the album. What he said, that stuck with me, was that 'I'd hate to get to the end of this and really wish we'd gone for it.'' Having worked with Kylie for so long, Nelson was able to put this latest shift of direction into perspective. He said 'You've traditionally done it throughout your career. You had your PWL time, then you did a complete turn when you went to deConstruction, then another complete turn with Spinning Around, and R&B dance-pop, and then another turn with Can't Get You Out Of My Head, icy synth-pop, and this is another one.' He was right. It felt like the right time to have a change sonically. New label, new stories to tell, and a new decade almost upon me.'

Kylie Minogue will, it's scarcely believable, turn 50 this year. This looming milestone is partly behind the album's title, and title track. I had this line that I wanted to use: 'We're not young, we're not old, we're golden' because I'm asked so often about being my age in this industry. This year, I'll be 50. And I get it, I get the interest, but I don't know how to answer it. And that line, for my personal satisfaction, says it as succinctly as possible. We can't be anyone else, we can't be younger or older than we are, we can only be ourselves. We're golden. And the album title, Golden, reflects all of this. I liked the idea of everyone being golden, shining in their own way. The sun shines in daylight, the moon shines in darkness. Wherever we are in life, we are still golden.' One of the album's shiniest moments is Raining Glitter, an exuberant banger which ventures closest to Kylie's traditional dance-pop comfort zone. Eg White, who is one of the producers and writers and a great character, was talking about disco one day. I said 'I love disco, but you know the brief.' We needed to be going down the Country lane, so to speak. But we managed to bring them both together. When I wrote it, I was thinking about the Jacksons video for Can You Feel It where they're sprinkling glitter over everyone. And I think there's a Donna Summer record that's got that feel to it. I think that's my job: I basically leave a trail of glitter after every show I do anyway.'

Kylie is looking forward to the challenge of incorporating the Golden material into her live shows. Mixing these songs in with my existing catalogue is going to be fun. And it could be fun to do some of those songs with just a guitar. It'll make my acoustic set interesting...'Her incredibly loyal fans - to whom one Golden song, Sincerely Yours, is intended as a love letter' - will, she believes, have no problem with her latest stylistic shift. My audience have been with me on the journey, so I shouldn't be afraid that they won't come with me on this part. I've had fun with it, and I'm sure they will too.'

The time spent making Golden has, Kylie says, been a time of creative and personal renewal. I've met some amazing people, truly inspiring writers and musicians. My passion for music has never gone away, but it's got bigger and stronger.' And if there's an overriding theme to the record, it is one of acceptance. We're all human and it's OK to make mistakes, get it wrong, to want to run, to want to belong, to love, to dream. To be ourselves.'

I was able to both lose and find myself whilst making this album.'

The french duo Klash Point , who have already enjoyed DJs support from the likes of minimal techno scene, Hot on the heels of their Module Records debut with their "Persistence E.P.", is back with four tracks of roughened groove ; this new "Mono Phase E.P." is likely to attract even more attention. Side A ,"Mono Phase" is just The true definition of a deep techno mood!
And "Stockholm" rocks around an hypnotic rolling groove that as it perpetually twists and turns.Side B ,"Kologne" push up you higher with its straight atmospheric synth ...And with textures and tones nodding to both Berlin and Detroit, once again there's a strong sense of timelessness and versatility to play "Dolby".

Distant Images is D.K.'s fourth release on Antinote and we can say quite safely that Dang Khoa Chau fueled a few identifiable obsessions over the years - for those familiar with his work, it probably won't feel like uncharted territory when they'll hear a somehow well-known guitar in the background of the title-track.
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What time spent collaborating with D.K. also showed us is how much his sound magnified itself and its textures sharpened for the past three years. We now know for sure that his music only seems versatile on the surface as Distant Images confirms that the Paris-based musician has been, in fact, digging deeper in the same direction, each new record working like a diaphragm, always more precisely adjusted to capture his inner vision. It feels, for instance, like D.K.'s music is constantly trying to reach a higher level of evanescence from one record to an other, a process which possibly accelerated after a visit from Suzanne Kraft - who he recorded an album with, earlier this year (coming out on Melody As Truth).

With Distant Images, D.K.'s sound also took a step further into reality - the most attentive ears will hear seagulls on Distant Images while rain is softly falling on Leaving - and slightly departed from the digital universes that his previous records seemed to set in motion. From the most abstract songs - like the Steve Reich-ian Shaker Loops

- to the most evocative ones, the five compositions on Distant Images are like stained glass, gently filtering natural light. It is therefore no coincidence if, of all the senses, the titles of the songs mostly refer to Sight: close your eyes while listening to the cinematographic Days Of Steam and visions of an industrious city might appearbefore you.

The beauty that emanates from Distant Images is of a diaphanous kind and the record a collection of kaleidoscopic moments.

Moonshine Recordings continues to coordinate dub into all sorts of directions with its steady throughput of vinyl releases. This time around, it's the Spanish-based Bukkha to uplift all followers with two up-tempo rollers that take part in his crucial 'Ruling Sound' EP. His name has been all over the news inside bass culture lately, as the American released highly noted physical music on critical labels like Killa Sound and Dub-Stuy Records. He's been working his way to the top and the only thing the Moonshine Recordings imprint can do is support his efforts in pushing dub music to the masses at any given moment of the day.
On top of this wicked news, Portland's dub producer and engineer 'Skelli Skel' joins this session to frame the taste of the 'PDX Mandem' collective from back home. His love for complex rhythms and heavy bass lines fuel his adventure inside dub culture, something you'll hear when listening to 'MS028'. And with the familiar voice from don Junior Dread, who jumps in on the hype by illuminating the dub with carefully selected freedom of speech, it's the collaboration that speaks for itself. To top it all, TMSV is added to the release roster, a producer whose been dealing some serious damage with his inventive music repertoire. Whether it's music on the darker tip, or the more laidback sound, both Bukkha and TMSV know how to uplift and please their followers with bass-heavy, eardrums-teasing bass music.
Bukkha's 'Ruling Sound' leads his way through musicality by portraying the right balance of instruments and not to mention the gigantic bassline that disperses vibrantly through the lower bottom of the mix. The reigning vocal support from Junior Dread and dub techniques from PDX Mandem family Skelli Skell work out fantastically, as it makes this record come to life. Listen to the instrumental part that propagates in the exact sense of 'dub music', regardless of spinning on a higher beats per minute. The version 'Ruling Dub' by Bukkha himself plays a more meditative part inside your headspace; a clipping where basslines and effects will act up in a blurred version. It's the real attention to detail the American producer shares with remix boss TMSV, who hits fans with a darker joint that pays homage to Drum & Bass. It's aggressive stance forms the pinnacle of 'the right' B-side of a Moonshine Recordings plate. Just make sure you experience the second drop of this absolutely mammoth interpretation, as TMSV shuts down the place!

After two in as many years, low-key German producer Yør returns to similarly low key Dutch imprint Purple Maze for his third full outing on the label in the form of the 'Sublimation EP'. Across the four tracks Yør continues to explore the same frayed and decayed, abstract electronics as he has in the past, with distant kins like Kassem Mosse and Morphosis still resonating.
The opener and title track is an intense and moody, nerve jangling affair where huge searching synths pan in the background of grinding drums and dense percussive clatter before 'Gravity', with its heavyweight and churning drums, trudges on through sonic scuzz and lo-fi blizzards as a backlit melody keeps things from growing all too dark and abstract.

The many different contrasting surfaces and counterpointed moods make Yør's sounds as arresting as they are. The dystopian, tortured industrial funk of 'Parallels' with its slapping claps and decaying percussive lines are proof of that, where through chaos comes beautiful order.
Closer 'Trust' holds its head a little higher, more spiralling synths and bleepy fax machines tones add a sense that the apocalypse is coming and machines will take over, but there's enough organic beauty in the deeply hidden melodies to keep the track from being all too hostile.