Search:hit express

REPRESS

Codek is the brainchild of Jean-Marie Salaun who grew up in Paris influenced by the folklore of the inner city. In 1978 he joined art rock group SpionS alongside Gregory Davidow and recorded two singles. Diving into the Paris post punk scene he met Claude Arto and designed the artwork for Claude's single on Celluloid Kwai Systeme / Betty Boop.' Robin Scott (M Pop Music') had produced the SpionS first single and wanted to collaborate further. With Claude, Jean-Marie wrote Me Me Me', intended for a choir, for M. Then SpionS split and Robin was off to Switzerland to record an album to follow-up his hit single. That left Jean-Marie alone in London, where he began working as Codek, a play on the brand name Kodak The Me Me Me' single was released by MCA Records in 1980. Back in Paris, now with some studio experience, Celluloid Records hired Jean-Marie to produce records for Artefact and Les Orphelins. Over the next 2 years he began working on ideas for the next Codek single Closer / Tam Tam'

Closer' started its life as an electric baseline played by Jean-Marie. Claude Arto sequenced the floating synthesizers. Laurent Grangier and Frédéric Lapierre of reggae band Immigration Act played the horns. The lyrics Hard to say. Easy to do. We don't need to say what we do' were a statement on creation as narration expressed Jean-Marie's ennui, I'm tired with it.' Tam Tam' was inspired by Burundi drummers playing on the plaza in front of Beaubourg where the song was recorded. Jean-Marie enlisted one of the drummers from the circle, Georges Atta Dikalo, to lay down percussion for the song. The female singers were from the French Caribbean and added falsetto tribal chants. JM was part of the the African night scene in Paris, remixing Xalam's Kanu' and Touré Kunda's Salaly Muhamed.' Claude achieved complex rhythmic patterns using a modular synthesizer and heavy processing. Jean-Marie recorded himself beating his chest for the thump noises. The recording of Tam Tam' and Closer' spanned over two years. They started on 16-track in Studio d'Auteuil, where JM blew the woofers, before resuming in Studio Centre Georges Pompidou with an added 8-track recorder. Jean-Marie was producing other bands, and a lot of this was recorded on "borrowed" studio time. The single was released in 1981 on West African Music, a tiny label from the Ivory Coast, and was re-released a year later by Island Records in the UK (where the B-side was re-named Tim Toum'). Both tracks were staples in the DJ sets of Beppe Loda and Daniele Baldelli, finding a spiritual home in the Cosmic scene of Italy.

Both songs have been remastered for vinyl by George Horn at Fantasy Studios in Berkeley. The jacket is an exact replica of the 1981 edition with artwork by Angela Boy, inspired by primitive electronics and African paintings. Each copy includes an doubles-sided insert with photos and liner notes by Jean-Marie Salaun.

Betty Davis was a musical maverick with vision. Image, substance, sex, and grit combined with a badass band that could deliver the funk bed backbone to the sultry music between the sheets. After cutting two notorious discs for the Just Sunshine label (Betty Davis and They Say I’m Different), and Nasty Gal for Island Records, Davis went to work on her most personal and expressive record yet. After capturing 10 hard-hitting tracks in 1976 at the remote Studio In The Country (Louisiana), a creative difference with her then label caused the platter to be unexpectedly shelved. Davis would cut one final album and soon retreat from the music business, completely disappearing from the public eye.

Is It Love Or Desire is a little-known gem in the Davis catalog. Mastered from the original tapes, and untouched for over 30 years, this release features detailed liner notes, the originally intended artwork housed in a lavishly packaged digipak, rare photos, archival material, and recent interviews with Davis and her skin-tight band Funk House.

Never bootlegged, never released, never heard until now, the secret story of this lost album will finally enter the history books and cement this bold soul sisters contributions to music and popular culture. Its time to get down…

Representing Seattle Funk. The Oscillators' debut album is deep, raw and energetic. Led by drummer oLLi kLoMp, the line up features members of the polyrhythmics, Rippin' Chicken, the Pulsations, Lucky Brown, the Trueloves, 45th Street Brass, The S.G.'s, and more...

REAL, DEEP FUNK WITH A PSYCHEDELIC NUDGE.

As of yet, as these words were written, the Oscillators is not a band. the Oscillators is an experimental recording collaboration that turned out swimmingly.

Our gauge was this: "Do we like it?" No agenda or goal. The main mode being simply; create what we like out of thin air. Yet the air was heavy therefore create what we like out of thick air. Magical, gravy-thick air. Molecules, olli'cules. Alchemically thick. Apparently, we needed to sample something out-of-the-ordinary… the process is called, "stackin- phat". Minimal gear, maximum vibe. In fact, this process and this gear would make most educated sound engineers cringe but the players know.

Pushing the tape…yes, tape! 4 track to be exact, pushing the tape to it's edge. First, stack two drum tracks. bounce them to one primal track. Sometimes one drummer, sometimes two; "a great drumbeat already contains melody." This is your first layer of phat. Generally, unless the muse says otherwise, you wanna bring in your bass player next, gently caress guidance and encouragement (maybe a beer or a hit a grass), then he or she can stack the next layer of phat. The next few layers are where things really take off. Maybe it's guitar then horns, maybe keys. Maybe just horns. Whatever the tune calls for. Whatever the muse "calls" for. Everyone stacking is simultaneously inspired, while hindered, by the previous layer; "constricted genius" works of magic from thin/thick air.

Most of the time the players weren't in the same room at the same time, and in some cases, haven't seen each other in years, but it sounds like a family and feels like a band. Create what we like.

The natural unfolding of this creation was affirming, in that the process of creation proved most relevant. An expression of faith and appreciation of the experiMENTAL process with no preparation for something else. Beyond fortunate for the allowance of time. "never underestimate the power of positive thought"

-Ned Blanski

ME LOST ME led by Newcastle-based artist Jayne Dent announces a new album RPG via Upset The Rhythm on 7th July, and is touring across the UK including support dates with Pigs x7. RPG (recorded in Blank Studios with Sam Grant of Pigs x7) is ME LOST ME’s fourth outing as a collective, having transitioned from an ambitious solo project in 2017, Jayne now regularly collaborating with acclaimed North-East jazz musicians Faye MacCalman and John Pope.
ME LOST ME delights in experimenting with songwriting and storytelling, creating a beguiling mix of soaring vocals and atmospheric electronics that playfully weave together disparate genres, drawing influence from folk, art pop, noise, ambient and improvised music. Hauntological in part, RPG is concerned with tales and with time - are we running out of it? Does insomnia cause a time loop? Do the pressures of masculinity prevent progress? Jayne Dent asks these questions and more on RPG, her homage to worldbuilding and the story as an artform, calling back to those oral traditions around a campfire, as well as modern day video games - bringing folk music into the present day as she does so.
ME LOST ME presents sound reaching in opposite directions, straddling time towards the archaic and timeless traditions of folktales, and towards the possible and potential futures of pastoral Britain and the world at large. Part speculation, part reminiscence, what results on the new album RPG is music that sounds ultimately displaced and yet omnipresent, adjacent to a hapless Vonnegut hero whose life is scattered throughout time and history, but full of wonder and curiosity rather than fear.
On track “The Oldest Trees Hold The Earth”, we see time stretched out between the branches of impossibly old beings in the woods. This track was co-written in Aarhus, Denmark with fellow Newcastle folk musician (with Danish heritage) Ditte Elly. The pair wordlessly passed a sheet of paper between each other to write the lyrics, inspired by Højbjerg and Mosegård, the woods they were sitting in. “How long should I wait/Before the moss grows?/On my skin, on my outstretched arms,” the lyrics are sung in a round, the close harmonies delicate and detailed.

A central thesis of this album is the joy of creation, something which is paid homage to in the album’s final track, “Science And Art” (Not because we need it to last/just because we needed to make it - so we invented the words/this language). It is also reflected in the definition that Jayne gives for “folk” itself. She comments, “To me, folk is quite an expansive idea. I think of it as creative work that's often made ad-hoc, with things that are at hand and more often than not it's born of a DIY ethos. It is songs and stories of the people, as in the traditional sense, but also creative coding, game design etc. Whatever outlet someone has for their creative expression could be described as folk. It's the things we make because humans need to make things, and the stories we tell about ourselves and the world around us.”
Crucially, on latest album RPG, Dent expands her songwriting and looks towards the unreal locations of worldbuilding in video games for inspiration. She comments, “I think the main similarity is the importance of a song's setting/environment to inform its narrative and textures, I'm often most inspired when out walking in the natural landscape, in cities and travelling to places I've never been before - the environment I'm in really impacts the work I make. While writing this album, however, I found myself inspired by imaginary landscapes, those in video games, paintings, etc. I was writing stories into these unreal locations instead. Even the songs inspired by real places, like The Oldest Trees Hold the Earth, have a very surreal quality to them in the songs, like they're being warped and turned into something not of this world. I think that's the main difference for me in terms of the thematic content and inspiration behind this album - I've been getting more and more interested in balancing surreal and fantastical environmental elements with ordinary and everyday settings.”
RPG upends the concept of the eternal return - we may be in the midst of inevitable repetition, but we tell stories whilst awaiting the passage of time.
"Being familiar with, and a fan of Jayne's earlier work, it was great to get the opportunity to work with her on the production of her new record. I had in mind a sense of what the record might be, but what came of the sessions, led by the vision Jayne had for the record, totally exceeded my expectations. As far as albums go, it has a breadth of writing and a sonic depth that made it a truly brilliant record. Having Jayne join us on a leg of the Pigs x7 tour in April is going to be ace. The creative nature, the sincerity and bold strokes of ME LOST ME put it in that space outside of any genre pigeonholes, and between our two sets I imagine the audience is going to have a proper sonic bath..."
Sam Grant, Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs, 2023
“The music of Me Lost Me is beguiling, idiosyncratic and cinematic - or should that be video-game-omatic? This suite of songscapes often hits the sweet spot between ancient and modern with its masterful blend of stark folk, neon electronic burbling and unusual arrangements. Jayne's singing is refreshingly straightforward and nuanced - it's exquisite! - and perfectly punctures the nebulae of synths and brass which billow around the old wooden frames of the songs. Whilst listening I had images in my mind of what Northumberland might look like through the eyes of Simon Stalenhag - foggy moors, a robot looking across the sea to Lindisfarne, twinkling lights on metal towers.... that sort of thing. It's a really great album.”
Richard Dawson, 2023

Available for the first time since originally released in 2006 via Stones Throw, Dudley Perkins & Madlib are pleased for the reissue of their sophomore collaborative LP, Expressions (2012 A.U.), their acclaimed follow-up to their 2003 debut effort, A Lil’ Light. And albeit the former can be accused of being excessively avant-garde, it’s Expressions where both Perkins and the Beat Konducta find a more fluid symmetry.

In everything from his collaborations with MF Doom and the late Jay Dee to his more recent pairing with Freddie Gibbs, Madlib is easily one of hip-hop's golden revolutionaries. At times his production has been accused of being sparse, but that's not the case with Expressions. This time around, Madlib's production is hitting all the funky corners with layered grooves that evoke the attitudes and emotions of A Tribe Called Quest's The Low End Theory.

Perkins's objective to keep the grooves flowing on Expressions is laid down with first lines of opener "Funky Dudley": "A little bit of funk and a dash of soul/ A little bit of George borrowed from my Ol' gran' pappy's stack of old school/ One nation under a groove." From there on the funk samples dance famously with Dudley's vocal style, which cross-pollinates the worlds of D'Angelo and Ol' Dirty Bastard. From "Get on Up" to the James Brown vocal sample in "Dolla Bill," Expressions uses Perkins's voice as if it were a sample itself, incorporating it in the production and the rhythms.

Madlib's production works flawlessly, his semi-psychedelic influence on R&B, soul and hip-hop keeping Perkins's style fresh and original. All the parts seem to be in place on Expressions as producer and emcee work side-by-side to create a cohesive sound that not only represents the creativity of the underground but could also awaken the tired ears of the mainstream.

The next chapter of the Natural Information Society is here. Since Time Is Gravity, credited to Natural Information Society Community Ensemble with Ari Brown, presents a newly expanded manifestation of acclaimed composer & multi-instrumentalist Joshua Abrams nearly 15 year, 7 albums &-counting flagship ensemble. Joining the core NIS of Abrams (guimbri & bass), Lisa Alvarado (harmonium) Mikel Patrick Avery (drums) & Jason Stein (bass clarinet) are Hamid Drake (percussion), Josh Berman & Ben Lamar Gay (cornets), Nick Mazzarella & Mai Sugimoto (alto saxophones & flute), Kara Bershad (harp) & Chicago living legend of the tenor saxophone Ari Brown. Recorded live to tape at Electrical Audio & The Graham Foundation, cover painting Vibratory Cartography: Nepantla, by Lisa Alvarado. 2xLP on Eremite USA, 2xLP & CD on Aguirre/Eremite Europe. Out 14-04.

Since first developing Natural Information Society in 2010, Joshua Abrams has been gradually expanding the group’s conceptual underpinnings, its musical references & the sheer number of the group’s members. Its music is, in a sense, an expansive form of minimalism, based in repeated & overlaid rhythmic patterns, ostinatos & modality. Its roots, its scale & its meaning become clearer in time. If time is gravity, it also allows us to carry more. Having begun as fundamentally a rhythm section with Abrams’ guimbri at its core, the version here can stretch to a tentet, including six horns.

Abrams has been expanding his minimalism gradually, but he has long understood a key to minimalism’s potential: the breadth of its roots in the late 1950s & early 1960s, ranging from the dissatisfaction of young European-stream composers with the limitations of serialism to the simultaneous dissatisfaction of jazz musicians with the dense harmonic vocabulary of bop & hard bop. The former began exploring rhythmic complexity & narrow tonal palates in place of harmonic abstraction (Steve Reich’s Drumming, Philip Glass’ Music with Changing Parts; perhaps above all Terry Riley’s In C & his late ‘60s all-night organ & loop concerts); the later reduced dense chord changes to scales (signally with Miles Davis' Kind of Blue, but rapidly expanding with John Coltrane’s vast project). In the 1950s the LP record opened the world with documentation of Asian & African musics, key influences on both minimalists & jazz musicians. If John Coltrane’s soprano saxophone suggested the keening shehnai of Bismillah Khan, the instrument was rapidly taken up by two key minimalists, LaMonte Young & Riley, similarly appreciative of its flexible intonation, the same thing that kept it out of big bands.

If the guimbri, the North African hide-covered lute that Abrams plays with NIS, involves a rich tradition of hypnotic healing music associated with the Gnawa people, Abrams’ music also touches on other musics as well — other depths, memories & healings, different drones, rhythms & modes. As the group expands on Since Time Is Gravity, he has made certain jazz traditions in the same stream more explicit as well. If there is a mystical & elastic quality involved in the experience of time, both in direction & duration, you will catch it here. The parts for the choir of winds expand on the roles of Abrams’ guimbri, Mikel Patrick Avery & Hamid Drake’s percussion & Lisa Alvarado’s harmonium: at times, the winds are almost looping in the tentet version, each hitting a repeating note in turn, at once drone & distinct inflection on temporal sequence. The brilliance of the work resides in Abrams’ compositions, the NIS’ intuitive execution & in Ari Brown’s singular embodiment of the great tenor saxophone tradition, including the oracular genius of Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis, & Yusef Lateef. The three pieces by the expanded NIS featuring Brown —the opening “Moontide Chorus” & “Is” & the ultimate “Gravity”— have an immediate impact, & togther might be considered a kind of concerto for tenor saxophone. Here Brown presses almost indistinguishably from composed melody to improvised speech, getting so close to language that he might have a text. Everything here is a sign. Note the tap of the Rhythm Ace that links “Moontide Chorus” to “Is”, the attentive heart always present, even when signed by a machine. There’s a link here to the methodologies & meanings of dub music & the linear & vertical collage of beats, textures & tongues: treated with reverence, a sample of a beat-box can be as soulful, as hypnotic, as a mbira or a tamboura. If those pieces with Brown are heard as a suspended concerto, the three embrace & enfold the other works, like the sepals of a flower. That placement will also touch on the mysteries of our perception of time.

Particularly in “Is”, but elsewhere as well, a phenomenon of transcendence arises in which time appears to be tripartite, at once moving backwards & forwards & standing still. This is an act of technical brilliance certainly, but also an illumination of music’s ability to represent temporal consciousness through polymetrics. This particular listener has only heard it before in a few places, including the horn shouts & bowed basses of Coltrane’s Africa, in moments of Charles Mingus’ The Black Saint & the Sinner Lady, in certain pieces where tapes were literally running backwards, & earlier still in Dizzy Gillespie’s Cubana Be, Cubana Bop, in which the composer George Russell & conguero Chano Pozo found a music that spoke at once in the voices of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring & the vestigial rites, rhythms & songs of the Yoruba language & Santeria religion of inland Cuba.

In Joshua Abrams’ compositions & the realization of them by the NIS, in the time of one’s close listening & memory thereof, distinctions between the “natural” & the “social”, the “quotidian” & the “transcendent” are erased, suspended or perhaps irrelevant. Consider two of the ensemble pieces, one named for nature, the other social science. In “Murmuration” the repeated wind figures of flute & alto saxophone combine with the interlocking patterns of harp, guimbri & frame drum (tar) to create a perfect moving stillness, not an imitation but a witness to the miracle of the starlings’ astonishing collective art, a surfeit of beauty that might be the ultimate defense tactic.

“Stigmergy” takes its name & concept from the Occupy movement’s Heather Marsh, who proposes a social system based on a cooperative rather than competitive models, one in which ideas are freely contributed & developed as ideas rather than an individual’s property. In its form, Abrams’ “Stigmergy” is the closes thing to traditional jazz, a series of accompanied solos by each of the wind players. However, the composed accompaniment is a radically collectivist notion: a repeated rhythmic figure, call it ostinato or riff, in which the different winds each play only a note or two of the figure, a concept both more collectivist & individualistic in its conception than any typical unison figure. It suggests another of the underlying recognitions that propel the Natural Information Society, the group as social organism, the teleology of hypnotic anarchy, all parts in place, functioning systematically, evolving & expressing itself, its nature & society, as a transformative organism.

George Lewis has described music as “a space for reflection on the human condition”. This suggests that, rather than a “distraction”, at least some music might serve as a distraction from distraction. It’s a focus, a clarity, a awareness, an external invitation to interiority, as if music itself is a model for form & contemplation, an organism contemplating for us or as us. If that is a possibility, & I am sure I have heard such musics, than this music is among them. How many of our rhythms, melodies & harmonies (cultural, historical, biological, psychic) might such music carry, translate & transform in the particulate ecstasy of our own murmuration? (Stuart Broomer, April 2022)

Known for its groundbreaking techno releases, Infrastructure New York, is relaunched! Celebrating 27 years of Function releases this year and the label's 25th anniversary, the label will serve as an outlet for his new material, reissues of out-of-print classics from Synewave, Sandwell District and Ostgut Ton (and of course, Infrastructure), as well as developing new artists. As a member of the Sandwell District collective, David Sumner aka Function, from 2007 onward was instrumental in cultivating and ushering in a new sound of dark, cerebral hypnotica - forcing the hand of change in global techno. Green EP serves as a testament to this, further exploring these depths. The EP pays homage to the day when David arrived in Berlin with his green suitcase where his record "Isolation" on Sandwell District was released, hitting the ground running and springboarding into an incredibly successful career, becoming a stalwart DJ/producer, after years as a struggling artist. Green EP encapsulates the same raw power and hypnotic energy of his genre-defining Sandwell District releases Isolation, Anticipation and Variance, updated with a modern flair. Subject f (Function) has clearly transcended, as expressed through the opening track "Initiation" arriving at his "New Designation". On the b-side Function communicates his divine alignment through the broken beat, etheric "Aeternum (Meridian)". Finally, Function closes Green EP with a live extraction of "Desire and Memory", a brooding club stormer in contrast to the more experimental leanings of the original version, which appeared on Rrose's label Eaux. One thing is clear: Function is back on track and more on form than ever!

'Malombo music is an indigenous kind of music. If you listen to it, you can feel that it can heal you, if you’ve got something wrong. It’s healing music.'
Lucky Ranku

"Lucas ‘Lucky’ Madumetja Ranku (1941-2016) was one of the greatest African guitarists of his generation. He first made his name with the Malombo Jazz Makers – the successor group to the legendary Malombo Jazzmen, formed in Mamelodi township by guitarist Philip Tabane, drummer Julian Bahula and flautist Abbey Cindi. When Tabane left the Jazzmen in 1965, Bahula and Cindi called on Lucky to replace him, and the Malombo Jazz Makers were born. Building on the popularity and success of the original Malombo Jazzmen, the Malombo Jazz Makers become immensely popular, touring widely, winning numerous jazz competitions, and recording two successful albums for the Gallo label.

The deep and hypnotic Down Lucky’s Way was their third album. Recorded in 1969, it was the first Malombo Jazz Makers album to feature additional instruments, and the first to feature Abbey Cindi on soprano saxophone as well as flute. But more than anything else, Down Lucky’s Way is a transfixing showcase for Lucky Ranku’s sui generis guitar virtuosity. Quite different from their previous recordings, the album shifted the Jazz Makers’ sound toward hypnotic, extended compositions, layered by organ bass and guitar overdubs. Of all the Malombo Jazz Makers recordings, Down Lucky’s Way is the deepest of mood, and the richest of vision.

However, through one of the erasures that are ubiquitous in South African musical history under apartheid, it seems that the record may not ever have been properly issued. Original copies are outrageously rare – only a few are known among collectors. When we asked Lucky about the album, he was unaware it had ever been released, and had never seen a copy. Perhaps it was pulled; perhaps it was pulped; perhaps Gallo simply took their eye off the ball. Nobody knows, but it is not impossible that the apartheid authorities were involved, for by 1969, the Malombo Jazz Makers were well known to them.

Julian Bahula’s introduction of malopo drums to the music of the original Malombo Jazzmen was a moment of crucial political and cultural radicalism for South African jazz. Traditionally used by BaPedi people for healing, the malopo drums of Malombo music re-centered jazz
around indigenous sounds and culture, and over the next decade, the Malombo Jazz Makers became deeply involved in political opposition to apartheid. Their recovery of indigenous sounds made them the musical standard bearer for the Black Consciousness movement, and they toured South Africa clandestinely with the writer and anti-apartheid activist Steve Biko. They also broke apartheid laws by playing with the white rock group Freedom’s Children, sometimes appearing on stage in masks or made up with UV paint to avoid detection by the authorities; they appeared regularly at the rule-bending Free People’s Concerts organized by David Marks, where Marks’ clever exploitation of a loophole – mixed audiences were prohibited from attending ticketed concerts where anyone was being paid, but the law said nothing about private functions played by artists for free – meant people could come together in defiance of apartheid laws. The notorious Special Branch would raid their concerts; Lucky remembered police storming an auditorium, throwing smoke bombs.

Eventually the political situation became too dangerous, and the band were being actively sought by the police. Though Abbey Cindi remained in South Africa, both Julian Bahula and Lucky Ranku went into political exile in the UK, where Bahula founded the group Jabula with Lucky and former members of Cymande, Steve Scipio and Michael ‘Bami’ Rose. With Jabula, Julian and Lucky worked tirelessly for the anti-apartheid movement, raising funds and awareness all over Europe and in the US. They played with Dudu Pukwana’s Spear in the joint formation Jabula-Spear, and worked together in Bahula’s Jazz Afrika formation, and Bahula organized the first Concert for Mandela in 1984 (it was Jabula that supplied the chorus for The Special A.K.A.’s hit single ‘Nelson Mandela’). Lucky also played and recorded with Chris McGregor’s South African Exiles Thunderbolt group. After the fall of apartheid, they both remained living and working in the UK. In 2012 the South African government awarded Julian Bahula the Gold Order of Ikhamanga for his cultural work during the struggle against apartheid.

Until his death in 2016, Lucky continued to play with countless groups and musicians. putting together the band Township Express with Pinise Saul, and leading his own African Jazz Allstars. The influence of his playing on the international perception of South African township music was immense, and he was held in the highest regard by his peers – ‘Lucky was a guitarist who could bring any house down’, said Michael ‘Bami’ Rose.

But despite his continuous presence on the UK live circuit over four decades, Lucky Ranku never recorded an album as leader. And so as well as restoring an important lost piece of South African musical heritage, Down Lucky’s Way is a precious opportunity to hear one of Africa’s foremost guitarists stretching out, in focus and in his element."

First issue since 1969 of the Malombo Jazz Maker’s unknown third album.
Liner notes featuring interviews with Julian Bahula and Lucky Ranku.
Fully licensed from Julian Bahula.

Swedish alternative rock group Bring the Hoax are set to release their
debut studio album "Single Coil Candy" in May 2023.

Combining sweet melodies with fuzzed out guitars into colorful, energetic, and dynamic rock music, the album contains the four tracks from Bring the Hoax's self titled EP from 2022 (previously only released digitally) plus six new, until now unreleased songs. Produced and recorded by the band members themselves, the album offers massive soundscapes inspired by the punk-, indie- and grunge-era
of the 90s'. Perfectly capturing the dynamic nature of the Stockholm based band, "Single Coil Candy" hits the sweet spot where nostalgia meets modern expressions, and where unpolished, distorted, and riff-based rock meets beautiful, bittersweet vocals and delicate nuances - it's everything you want in an actionpacked 2023 indie rock record.
The album is mixed by Markus Ingberg and mastered by Hans Olsson Brookes.

The album features cover art by the band's bass player Sara Engström.

* 300 COPIES FOR UK/EU* With a friendship stretching back nearly 20 years, it strangely ended up being a couple of childhood photographs that finally brought Ben Chasny and Rick Tomlinson together as collaborators. Both have rich musical backgrounds: Chasny being a member of the psych-rock outfit Comets on Fire but probably best known for his solo project, Six Organs of Admittance, while Tomlinson has released numerous records as Voice of the Seven Woods/Thunders and under his own name. “A mutual acquaintance, Jamie Tugwell, took me to go see Rick play live around 2005,” remembers Chasny. “Jamie kept saying how Rick was sort of an ornery fellow and that I would like him a lot. He was right. I loved his guitar playing right away, which seemed so far from what a lot of players were doing. We had drinks and hit it off. We remained friends over the years.” Chasny became a regular visitor to Tomlinson when on tour in the UK and one particular stay unearthed something serendipitous that would kickstart the making of a joint album. “I was staying at Rick’s house after a show and I looked over and saw a photo of him in a Halloween costume as a box of matches,” Chasny recalls. “It cracked me up because I have a similar photo of me as a robot and I tried to explain to him how it matched his photo.” About 6 months later Chasny found it and sent it to Tomlinson to show him the uncanny likeness of their childhood outfits. “Pretty soon after that we realized we needed to do a duo record and have those photos be on the cover,” says Chasny. “The entire record comes from the photos on the cover.” Tomlinson adds: “It was a pretty odd coincidence. Even down to us both standing on flags with a conifer behind us. We obviously had no option but to use these for the sleeve.” Recorded at Tomlinson’s house in Todmorden over three days one June, initially the pair didn’t quite know where they wanted to go with their musical direction. Tomlinson kept pulling out super rare records from his vast collection for inspiration and they sat and listened to the solo piano recordings of Popol Vuh’s Florian Fricke but they knew they needed to land on something that was intrinsically them. “We knew we wanted to do a record together but we weren’t sure what direction to take,” says Chasny. “When we first sat down to work out some ideas it was pretty much just us getting down to finally having a guitar showdown where each of us tried to outdo each other with flashy moves and ridiculous riffs and playing. After we got that out of our system, we were able to settle down and concentrate on a mood for the record to focus on.” The result is 6 instrumental tracks that capture beautifully fluid and interlocking guitars played with deft grace and skill but also a subtle looseness. On the 9 minute-plus ‘Wait For Low Tide’, the sparse and spacious back and forth playing becomes utterly hypnotic, neatly capturing the kind of natural and intuitive playing that can only come from music made between friends who understand the crucialness of leaving space for one another. While acoustic guitars are the primary means of expression on the record - from the soothing and gentle ‘i’ to the intricate playing of ‘Waking of Insects’ - the pair delve into ambient drone tape loop territory on the humming 16 minute ‘Paths of Ocean Currents and Wind Belts’, which further adds to the deeply textural, spacious and immersive feel of the album. All the tracks were recorded in one take, with the titles all stemming from translations from the Chinese book, The Dream Pool Essays, and then mixed in London at Jimmy Robertson's SNAFU studio, with additional mixing and mastering from Andrew Liles. The laid back, breezy and spontaneous approach to making this record is one that was reflective of the pair’s friendship and camaraderie, with their relationship ultimately driving the tone and feel of the finished album. “We hiked around the countryside, climbed into church bell towers, drank delicious beer in the middle of sunny afternoons, and had fantastic dinners,” says Chasny of the three-day recording period. “I think all of that wound up in the music. I really had the best time in the world.

Marvin Gaye at his very best! Two classics from Gaye’s esteemed catalogue, ‘I Wanna Be Where You Are’ and ‘I Want You’ with alternative mixes that have never been on 12 inch before. Plucked from the Deluxe Edition of the spellbinding ‘I Want You’ album that was mixed Kevin Reeves & remastered by Ellen Fitton, these two cuts have always called out for loud and proud pressing on either side of a 12.

Up first, ‘I Wanna Be Where You Are’ written by the magical pairing of Leon Ware and Arthur 'T-Boy' Ross with Ware also behind the production controls. An abbreviated cover of Michael Jackson’s hit, it sees Gaye take a brief respite from his usual steamy and sensual swooning to express his love for his family. Jackson would then return the favour, taking influence from Marvin’s 1977 hit ‘Got to Give it Up’ to make ‘Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough’.

Originally a 1:17 minute segue on the album, the Unedited version clocks in at over 6 minutes, turning it from a transitionary passage to a standalone gem. Extending those delectable grooves, building and breaking with a sun-kissed, funk channelling feeling that washes over like a warm wave. With the 7 inch release trading hands for over £75 on Discogs this ain’t one to miss.

On the flip, ‘I Want You’ written by the same duo as the A, with Leon Ware once again on the production and released as part of the same ’76 album. It was an LP that introduced a change in musical styles for Gaye, songs such as this giving him a disco audience thanks to Leon Ware. The Jam-Alternate version leaves Gaye’s vocals till the final section, letting that sweet soaring soundtrack sing to its absolute emotive peak. Sunrise or sunset, this one is not to be used lightly - tears of joy on the dancefloor guaranteed.

Ed Sheeran is set to release his new album ‘-‘ (Subtract) - the last in his decade-spanning mathematical album era - on 5 May 2023 through Asylum/Atlantic on vinyl, cassette and CD. An album that revisits Ed’s singer/songwriter roots, and one that was written against a backdrop of personal grief and hope, ‘-’ (Subtract) presents one of the biggest stars on the planet at his most vulnerable and honest.
In Ed’s own words - “I had been working on Subtract for a decade, trying to sculpt the perfect acoustic album, writing and recording hundreds of songs with a clear vision of what I thought it should be. Then at the start of 2022, a series of events changed my life, my mental health, and ultimately the way I viewed music and art.
Writing songs is my therapy. It helps me make sense of my feelings. I wrote without thought of what the songs would be, I just wrote whatever tumbled out. And in just over a week, I replaced a decade’s worth of work with my deepest darkest thoughts.

Within the space of a month, my pregnant wife got told she had a tumour, with no route to treatment until after the birth. My best friend Jamal, a brother to me, died suddenly and I found myself standing in court defending my integrity and career as a songwriter. I was spiralling through fear, depression and anxiety.
I felt like I was drowning, head below the surface, looking up but not being able to break through for air.

As an artist I didn’t feel like I could credibly put a body of work into the world that didn’t accurately represent where I am and how I need to express myself at this point in my life. This album is purely that. It’s opening the trapdoor into my soul. For the first time I’m not trying to craft an album people will like, I’m merely putting something out that’s honest and true to where I am in my adult life.

This is last February’s diary entry and my way of making sense of it. This is Subtract.”
Since he first learnt ‘Layla’ by Eric Clapton on guitar at the age of 12-years-old, Sheeran’s love of the singer/songwriter began. Growing up with the likes of Damian Rice, Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan playing on repeat in his parents’ house – artists that his dad, John, introduced him to – ‘-‘was always on Ed’s horizon. Yet as the songs and writing process took on a whole new meaning and direction after a series of hard-hitting events impacted Ed’s world in 2022, one thing that remained untouched was his strong desire to make a record anchored in his love of singer/songwriter compositions. And now, as he gears-up for the release of his most soul-baring work to date, ‘-‘ serves as a timely reminder for why Sheeran remains one of the most gifted lyricists of his generation; an artist who breaks down his own experiences for fans to seek comfort and belonging.
‘-‘ is the result of Sheeran pushing the boundaries of his songcraft, as he delivers the most profound songwriting of his career. Teaming-up with Aaron Dessner (The National) on writing and production after the pair joined forces following an introduction from mutual friend Taylor Swift, Ed and Aaron began crafting the album in February last year. Writing over 30 songs during their month-long studio stint, the album’s fourteen tracks are seamlessly tied together by exquisite production from paired back, folk-leaning textures to bolder, full-band/orchestral arrangements.
Ed Sheeran burst onto the UK music scene in 2011 with his debut album ‘+’. Rapidly establishing himself as a history-making artist, he followed with ‘x’, ‘÷’, ‘No.6 Collaborations Project’ and ‘=’ - a catalogue that has seen Sheeran become one of the world’s biggest musical success stories of the 21st century.

Ed Sheeran is set to release his new album ‘-‘ (Subtract) - the last in his decade-spanning mathematical album era - on 5 May 2023 through Asylum/Atlantic on vinyl, cassette and CD. An album that revisits Ed’s singer/songwriter roots, and one that was written against a backdrop of personal grief and hope, ‘-’ (Subtract) presents one of the biggest stars on the planet at his most vulnerable and honest.
In Ed’s own words - “I had been working on Subtract for a decade, trying to sculpt the perfect acoustic album, writing and recording hundreds of songs with a clear vision of what I thought it should be. Then at the start of 2022, a series of events changed my life, my mental health, and ultimately the way I viewed music and art.
Writing songs is my therapy. It helps me make sense of my feelings. I wrote without thought of what the songs would be, I just wrote whatever tumbled out. And in just over a week, I replaced a decade’s worth of work with my deepest darkest thoughts.

Within the space of a month, my pregnant wife got told she had a tumour, with no route to treatment until after the birth. My best friend Jamal, a brother to me, died suddenly and I found myself standing in court defending my integrity and career as a songwriter. I was spiralling through fear, depression and anxiety.
I felt like I was drowning, head below the surface, looking up but not being able to break through for air.

As an artist I didn’t feel like I could credibly put a body of work into the world that didn’t accurately represent where I am and how I need to express myself at this point in my life. This album is purely that. It’s opening the trapdoor into my soul. For the first time I’m not trying to craft an album people will like, I’m merely putting something out that’s honest and true to where I am in my adult life.

This is last February’s diary entry and my way of making sense of it. This is Subtract.”
Since he first learnt ‘Layla’ by Eric Clapton on guitar at the age of 12-years-old, Sheeran’s love of the singer/songwriter began. Growing up with the likes of Damian Rice, Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan playing on repeat in his parents’ house – artists that his dad, John, introduced him to – ‘-‘was always on Ed’s horizon. Yet as the songs and writing process took on a whole new meaning and direction after a series of hard-hitting events impacted Ed’s world in 2022, one thing that remained untouched was his strong desire to make a record anchored in his love of singer/songwriter compositions. And now, as he gears-up for the release of his most soul-baring work to date, ‘-‘ serves as a timely reminder for why Sheeran remains one of the most gifted lyricists of his generation; an artist who breaks down his own experiences for fans to seek comfort and belonging.
‘-‘ is the result of Sheeran pushing the boundaries of his songcraft, as he delivers the most profound songwriting of his career. Teaming-up with Aaron Dessner (The National) on writing and production after the pair joined forces following an introduction from mutual friend Taylor Swift, Ed and Aaron began crafting the album in February last year. Writing over 30 songs during their month-long studio stint, the album’s fourteen tracks are seamlessly tied together by exquisite production from paired back, folk-leaning textures to bolder, full-band/orchestral arrangements.
Ed Sheeran burst onto the UK music scene in 2011 with his debut album ‘+’. Rapidly establishing himself as a history-making artist, he followed with ‘x’, ‘÷’, ‘No.6 Collaborations Project’ and ‘=’ - a catalogue that has seen Sheeran become one of the world’s biggest musical success stories of the 21st century.

Emotional Rescue is delighted to debut a first. Rather than a straight reissue of an (obscure) classic or a collection of music by an artist or label, here presented is a compilation of various artists centered around a sound and movement reggae-tinged music and how it influenced and spread from the Caribbean and diaspora.

Drawn from the off kilter digging of archivist, DJ and collector Bruno (perfectliv.es), Nowhere Like Here is not a follow up, but a sideways accompaniment, to his recent and already cult like 'Perfect Motion' collection of left field pop and new wave, recently self-released with Flo Dill (NTS).

This is a special release to celebrate the label's 10th year and beyond, offering a treasure trove of lo-fi and often pop inspired reggae cuts, mixing heartfelt Lovers Rocks style paeans and quirky private press oddities, all guaranteed to 'make-a-move and tap', these are, in the main ridiculously rare or impossible to find alternative bombs, that are just as sound system rocking and massive bass line quaking showcases of the enduring legacy of this Jamaican music phenomenon.
As with much of the early 80s period, the music community was in the throes of a Do-It-Yourself cultural renaissance as small labels, where crazy limited, one off White Labels Onlys came and went. Songs like Avalanche 's 'Your Love is Such a Good Thing 'or Warp Speed's 'Take It To The Night' were part of the claiming the means of production in to their own hands, pressing up the records and self-distributing. This raw, naive exuberance can be heard in the songs themselves. This is not reggae or Lovers as known, but something more expressive. Musical, simply produced, but with intelligible and uplifting optimism that is just superlatively catchy.

While Paul Thompson's 'Can I Take You Home' and Ras Ibuna's 'Black Beauty' are more straight-ahead Lover's style cuts, there is the parallel dance pop private pressing vibrations of the two Keith Robinson songs and Majority's 'Caroline' included all part of a thread; a joining the dots that Nowhere Like Here is at its most basic, a warmth the whole album exudes.

This is not a Lovers Rock Hits of some, but a left-of-center versioning, spread across Double Pack and cut loud for DJ play, fitting the ethos of Emotional Rescue by presenting something most will not have heard before and all the better for it.

Orange Vinyl
Kero & Steph’s landmark collaboration Syndrome now sees a sumptuous release on vinyl and evocative music video, spinning data into densely layered visual treats.

Steph’s coolly ethereal voice and poignant writing drift in harmonies atop the sliced-up, glitched, hard-hitting precision of Kero’s productions. The unforgettable directness of her compositional sense is here, as her long resume of scores and placements would suggest. It finds an urban-technological counterpart in Kero’s frenetic sounds. The DU label boss is in full force straight from the chilling post-pop of the opening titular cut. “Walk in the park” is a production masterwork, punchy organic percussion against grinding bass. “Who am I to complain” is at once arresting and vulnerable with vocals, but still packs an emotional gut-punch in the accompanying instrumental. “Count down from 7” is more stripped down and urgent, melodic hooks propelled by lo-fi rhythmic mechanism’s menace.

For the remixes, Oberman Knocks unleashes utter digital destruction - computer memory banks dropped through a wormhole. That thoroughly deconstructs Mtch into composite textures -- and opens “Walk in the Park” to near-unrecognizable, yet somehow danceable mayhem.

The new physical and motion elements find a visual language for these sonic strata of imagination and digital construction. From designer Christoph Grünberger, known for his tome The Age of Data: Embracing Algorithms in Art & Design, we get the packed outer sleeve and 2D design. These enshroud a calm-looking Steph in a Shibuya Crossing-style trip inside Defasten’s geometries, opposite a catalog of branching visualizations and glyphs.

Defasten, known for his live AV work fusing virtual reality and performance, here explodes faceted 3D cubes, in the cover and further in the music video. These pulsing crystalline hyper-geometries delve into data as expressive medium, shifting and vibrating with the glowing tones and crisp percussive hits of Kero and Steph’s composition. It’s a rare music video that matches the music in intricacy and form - a world that can only exist in virtual space, but that feels as immersively dreamy as the sound score.

“Sugar coated fabric … in braided covers” and “silver linings” were never so tempting.

The incongruous, yet glorious, creative partnership between Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood was well underway when the two singular artists reunited to record 1972’s Nancy & Lee Again, a follow-up to their bestselling duet debut, Nancy & Lee. Nancy, the eldest daughter of Frank Sinatra, had been working with the Oklahoma-born songwriter since 1965, when she topped the pop charts with “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’.” Over the next five years, the two artists forged a prolific relationship in the studio, with Hazlewood writing and producing many of Nancy’s solo hits. Soon, the duo found success with a series of duets, including “Sand,” “Summer Wine,” and “Some Velvet Morning” – all of which appeared on their highly-influential 1968 debut.

Not long after the critical acclaim and chart success of Nancy & Lee died down, however, Hazlewood unexpectedly relocated to Sweden, leaving his musical partner in the proverbial dust. America, meanwhile, was in the midst of a cultural shift, as the Vietnam War waged on. By the turn of the decade, the musical landscape had changed significantly. “Trivial music and not profound music became unimportant,” recalls Nancy, speaking to Hunter Lea. “It was a tough time.” And yet, despite the circumstances, the stars somehow aligned for the duo to record some of their most magnificent music together.

Returning to Los Angeles for the project, Hazlewood – who reprised his role as producer – chose to take a new direction with the duo’s sophomore album. Nancy recalls, “It was more dramatic; it was more fun to do, more challenging to do…. It was more grandiose.” For the lush, orchestral arrangements, they collaborated with Larry Muhoberac (an original member of Elvis Presley’s TCB band, whose early ‘70s credits also included Barbra Streisand, Neil Diamond, and Lalo Schifrin) and Clark Gassman, who had worked on Hazlewood’s 1970 LP, Cowboy in Sweden. Backing vocals from brothers John and Tom Bahler, who remain two of the most recorded singers in history, added additional texture to several songs.

The big sound that Nancy describes above is exemplified in the album’s cinematic opener, “Arkansas Coal (Suite).” Clocking in at nearly six minutes long, the dynamic overture tells the tale of an ill-fated coal miner (sung by Hazlewood), while Nancy adjusts her vocals to sing as both the miner’s daughter and his wife. Hazlewood’s knack for vivid, nuanced storytelling shines throughout Nancy & Lee Again, particularly in “Paris Summer,” which details the conflict that a married woman faces, as she engages in a passionate affair. Another highlight is the country-inspired hit, “Did You Ever,” which was released as the album’s lead single. After it landed at No.2 on the U.K. pop charts, the song served as an alternate title track in several countries, including LP pressings in the U.K., Germany, and Canada.

One of the most emotionally-charged moments on Nancy & Lee Again is a cover of Dolly Parton’s “Down From Dover.” The heartbreaking tune tells the tale of a pregnant teenager, who has been abandoned by her lover and her family and ultimately gives birth to a stillborn baby. While Parton’s 1970 version was sung from the teenager’s point of view, Hazlewood and Sinatra transformed the country song into a duet. Hazlewood, who offers the man’s side of the story, sings in a notably deeper octave than his signature baritone.

Another poignant selection is “Congratulations,” which describes a soldier coming home from Vietnam. “His face has grown old and his eyes have grown cold/And they tell you of where he has been/Congratulations, you sure made a man out of him,” Hazlewood sings, pointedly. Nancy, who performs as the vet’s wife, argues that the song had a deeper meaning for her duet partner. “Lee started out a hawk, he was an army guy, so he was all for the war in the beginning. We didn’t talk about it, but at some point, he changed radically. ‘Congratulations’ was almost like an apology from him. I don’t want to put words in his mouth, but it was as though he was saying ‘I’m really sorry.’”

The song “Friendship Train” could also be interpreted as an apology of sorts – this time to Nancy. “You’ve been hurt and I’ve been hurt/Now we’re living pain,” the tune opens. When Hazlewood moved to Sweden without telling his longtime musical partner, Sinatra was understandably upset. “I felt pretty betrayed. I mean, who does that? Who just up and disappears like that? I’ll never understand it,” she reveals. But the uplifting duet – a slice of ‘70s pop perfection – offers reaffirming words of love between friends. “Lee felt things very deeply and tended to express his feelings in song instead of in real life,” explains Nancy.

The 10-track album closes with the stripped-down “Got It Together.” Backed by an acoustic guitar, the song is equal parts playful and candid, as the duo has an impromptu, spoken-word conversation about their lives. “I wish that we’d quit getting so old,” laments Nancy, who later shares her wish to have children (she would do so in the next few years). Hazlewood, meanwhile, attempts to remedy his past wrongdoings – this time asking his partner, “Can I go back to Sweden?” With that, Nancy gives her blessing.

This definitive reissue of Nancy & Lee Again also includes two bonus tracks. Both are stylistic departures for the duo – but fit right in with the psychedelic pop of the era. The first one, “Think I’m Coming Down,” is a harmony-filled reflection on a toxic relationship. “I think that was one of [Lee’s] drug things. I don’t mean that he used drugs; I mean that he was trying to be part of that culture. Trying to be hip,” explains Nancy, who delivers an emotive vocal performance on the solo track. Also included is “Machine Gun Kelly,” penned by a staple of the 70s singer-songwriter movement, Danny Kortchmar (James Taylor, Carole King, Linda Ronstadt). Recorded several months after the release of the album, the song found Nancy reuniting with Billy Strange, who arranged many of her solo albums, as well as Nancy & Lee. Sinatra and Hazlewood first performed “Machine Gun Kelly” during their residency at Las Vegas’ Riviera Hotel in February 1972 (later released as a concert documentary on Swedish television). While the recording has long remained a career favorite of Nancy’s, it would be decades before it was officially released.

Nancy & Lee Again remains a creative high point in the careers of Sinatra and Hazlewood and, upon its release, garnered rave reviews from Billboard, Record World, and Cash Box, among others. Yet, Nancy & Lee Again never received the spotlight it so utterly deserved. “We didn’t have label support at all in those days,” recalls Nancy. “Without the strength of a label, records die. We were old. We were old-fashioned. We were just not what was happening. It’s a very ageist kind of business.” Nevertheless, she adds, “I think it’s a very good album. I think it’s timeless.” Now, after years of being a sought-after rarity, this gem in the Sinatra-Hazlewood canon can finally get its due.

Five decades later, Nancy’s legacy only continues to grow, as new generations discover her impressive catalog (which boasts nearly 20 studio albums – her duets with Hazlewood among them – and dozens of charting singles, including the theme song to the 1967 James Bond film, You Only Live Twice). In 2020, Sinatra was recognized by her peers when “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’” was inducted into the GRAMMY® Hall of Fame. That same year, Sinatra partnered with Light in the Attic for Nancy Sinatra: Start Walkin’ 1965-1976, a definitive survey of her most prolific period. LITA has also reissued Sinatra’s classic debut, Boots, and her iconic, 1968 album with Lee Hazlewood, Nancy & Lee. The label looks forward to celebrating Nancy over the coming years with a variety of special releases, exclusive merchandise, and more.

The incongruous, yet glorious, creative partnership between Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood was well underway when the two singular artists reunited to record 1972’s Nancy & Lee Again, a follow-up to their bestselling duet debut, Nancy & Lee. Nancy, the eldest daughter of Frank Sinatra, had been working with the Oklahoma-born songwriter since 1965, when she topped the pop charts with “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’.” Over the next five years, the two artists forged a prolific relationship in the studio, with Hazlewood writing and producing many of Nancy’s solo hits. Soon, the duo found success with a series of duets, including “Sand,” “Summer Wine,” and “Some Velvet Morning” – all of which appeared on their highly-influential 1968 debut.

Not long after the critical acclaim and chart success of Nancy & Lee died down, however, Hazlewood unexpectedly relocated to Sweden, leaving his musical partner in the proverbial dust. America, meanwhile, was in the midst of a cultural shift, as the Vietnam War waged on. By the turn of the decade, the musical landscape had changed significantly. “Trivial music and not profound music became unimportant,” recalls Nancy, speaking to Hunter Lea. “It was a tough time.” And yet, despite the circumstances, the stars somehow aligned for the duo to record some of their most magnificent music together.

Returning to Los Angeles for the project, Hazlewood – who reprised his role as producer – chose to take a new direction with the duo’s sophomore album. Nancy recalls, “It was more dramatic; it was more fun to do, more challenging to do…. It was more grandiose.” For the lush, orchestral arrangements, they collaborated with Larry Muhoberac (an original member of Elvis Presley’s TCB band, whose early ‘70s credits also included Barbra Streisand, Neil Diamond, and Lalo Schifrin) and Clark Gassman, who had worked on Hazlewood’s 1970 LP, Cowboy in Sweden. Backing vocals from brothers John and Tom Bahler, who remain two of the most recorded singers in history, added additional texture to several songs.

The big sound that Nancy describes above is exemplified in the album’s cinematic opener, “Arkansas Coal (Suite).” Clocking in at nearly six minutes long, the dynamic overture tells the tale of an ill-fated coal miner (sung by Hazlewood), while Nancy adjusts her vocals to sing as both the miner’s daughter and his wife. Hazlewood’s knack for vivid, nuanced storytelling shines throughout Nancy & Lee Again, particularly in “Paris Summer,” which details the conflict that a married woman faces, as she engages in a passionate affair. Another highlight is the country-inspired hit, “Did You Ever,” which was released as the album’s lead single. After it landed at No.2 on the U.K. pop charts, the song served as an alternate title track in several countries, including LP pressings in the U.K., Germany, and Canada.

One of the most emotionally-charged moments on Nancy & Lee Again is a cover of Dolly Parton’s “Down From Dover.” The heartbreaking tune tells the tale of a pregnant teenager, who has been abandoned by her lover and her family and ultimately gives birth to a stillborn baby. While Parton’s 1970 version was sung from the teenager’s point of view, Hazlewood and Sinatra transformed the country song into a duet. Hazlewood, who offers the man’s side of the story, sings in a notably deeper octave than his signature baritone.

Another poignant selection is “Congratulations,” which describes a soldier coming home from Vietnam. “His face has grown old and his eyes have grown cold/And they tell you of where he has been/Congratulations, you sure made a man out of him,” Hazlewood sings, pointedly. Nancy, who performs as the vet’s wife, argues that the song had a deeper meaning for her duet partner. “Lee started out a hawk, he was an army guy, so he was all for the war in the beginning. We didn’t talk about it, but at some point, he changed radically. ‘Congratulations’ was almost like an apology from him. I don’t want to put words in his mouth, but it was as though he was saying ‘I’m really sorry.’”

The song “Friendship Train” could also be interpreted as an apology of sorts – this time to Nancy. “You’ve been hurt and I’ve been hurt/Now we’re living pain,” the tune opens. When Hazlewood moved to Sweden without telling his longtime musical partner, Sinatra was understandably upset. “I felt pretty betrayed. I mean, who does that? Who just up and disappears like that? I’ll never understand it,” she reveals. But the uplifting duet – a slice of ‘70s pop perfection – offers reaffirming words of love between friends. “Lee felt things very deeply and tended to express his feelings in song instead of in real life,” explains Nancy.

The 10-track album closes with the stripped-down “Got It Together.” Backed by an acoustic guitar, the song is equal parts playful and candid, as the duo has an impromptu, spoken-word conversation about their lives. “I wish that we’d quit getting so old,” laments Nancy, who later shares her wish to have children (she would do so in the next few years). Hazlewood, meanwhile, attempts to remedy his past wrongdoings – this time asking his partner, “Can I go back to Sweden?” With that, Nancy gives her blessing.

This definitive reissue of Nancy & Lee Again also includes two bonus tracks. Both are stylistic departures for the duo – but fit right in with the psychedelic pop of the era. The first one, “Think I’m Coming Down,” is a harmony-filled reflection on a toxic relationship. “I think that was one of Lee’s drug things. I don’t mean that he used drugs; I mean that he was trying to be part of that culture. Trying to be hip,” explains Nancy, who delivers an emotive vocal performance on the solo track. Also included is “Machine Gun Kelly,” penned by a staple of the 70s singer-songwriter movement, Danny Kortchmar (James Taylor, Carole King, Linda Ronstadt). Recorded several months after the release of the album, the song found Nancy reuniting with Billy Strange, who arranged many of her solo albums, as well as Nancy & Lee. Sinatra and Hazlewood first performed “Machine Gun Kelly” during their residency at Las Vegas’ Riviera Hotel in February 1972 (later released as a concert documentary on Swedish television). While the recording has long remained a career favorite of Nancy’s, it would be decades before it was officially released.

Nancy & Lee Again remains a creative high point in the careers of Sinatra and Hazlewood and, upon its release, garnered rave reviews from Billboard, Record World, and Cash Box, among others. Yet, Nancy & Lee Again never received the spotlight it so utterly deserved. “We didn’t have label support at all in those days,” recalls Nancy. “Without the strength of a label, records die. We were old. We were old-fashioned. We were just not what was happening. It’s a very ageist kind of business.” Nevertheless, she adds, “I think it’s a very good album. I think it’s timeless.” Now, after years of being a sought-after rarity, this gem in the Sinatra-Hazlewood canon can finally get its due.

Five decades later, Nancy’s legacy only continues to grow, as new generations discover her impressive catalog (which boasts nearly 20 studio albums – her duets with Hazlewood among them – and dozens of charting singles, including the theme song to the 1967 James Bond film, You Only Live Twice). In 2020, Sinatra was recognized by her peers when “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’” was inducted into the GRAMMY® Hall of Fame. That same year, Sinatra partnered with Light in the Attic for Nancy Sinatra: Start Walkin’ 1965-1976, a definitive survey of her most prolific period. LITA has also reissued Sinatra’s classic debut, Boots, and her iconic, 1968 album with Lee Hazlewood, Nancy & Lee. The label looks forward to celebrating Nancy over the coming years with a variety of special releases, exclusive merchandise, and more.

For a quarter of an hour, Zürich was the navel of the world. Let's look back: at New York's CBGB's, pre-punks were shredding away, Malcolm McLaren, as a man with a fine-tuned taste for the hip, imported the sound to London, where his sweetheart Vivienne Westwood dressed the test-tube band The Sex Pistols. A few pop magazines later (we are in an analog world!) punk bands sprouted everywhere, like shiny pimples on poorly fed teenagers. Contrary to legend, even back then, it was often those with a musical background who were the most successful. One such example, Henrich "Wüste" Zwahlen, who had learned the violin, attended a jazz school and went into prog-rock before joining the Nasal Boys, one of the first punk bands in Zürich. The scene included the female band Kleenex (cover: Fischli of art heroes Fischli/Weiss), whose minimalism was praised by the London music press, while the world's most important rock theorist, Greil Marcus, wrote an ode highlighting Zürich's role as the birthplace of Dadaism. A fertile ground for the militant youth movement that exploded in 1980 and stirred up the city of banks, protestantism and boredom with raw wit and expressive violence. Gathering at concerts of local bands and fueled by endogenous and artificial substances - they paid homage to exuberance and self-indulgence.
The mantra of "everything-is-possible" was driven forward on the musical front by progress in terms of means of production: analog electronic instruments were no longer reserved for hippie nerds, who sat in front of large plug-in boards like autistic-psychedelic switchboard operators connecting cables for their sound carpets. Now snazzy stage personnel elicited fast-paced sounds from handy devices often made in Japan. Kraftwerk was fashionable, the Zurich duo Yello experimented with new synthetic sounds, and the groundbreaking album "Alles Ist Gut" by the Düsseldorf based duo D.A.F. (Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft) was released, which chanted its program of provocation times danceability with lines such as "Tanz den Jesus Christus, tanz the Mussolini, tanz the Adolf Hitler." In England meanwhile, electronically backed New Romantic bands were replacing New Wave. The Human League, Heaven 17, Duran Duran, OMD, Depeche Mode or Visage stormed the charts.
In Zürich's underground, the duo Aboriginal Voices caused a stir at that time. A couple, good-looking, styled, looking cool into the cold neon light, with a danceable beat and sequenced electro sounds, to which Micheline gave a very unique touch when she sang in French and English. Micheline had a classical piano education, had left home early, worked as a lighting technician in a strip joint and at Booster, the hottest boutique in town (one of the relicts that still exists). Voilà: a musician who was as stylish as she was tough. She was already playing with Wüste in the band "Doobie Doos", a band where everyone played an instrument they didn't master. In 1980 the Aboriginal Voices were formed, initially with vocalist Magda Vogel (of later UnknownmiX fame), who was trained as a classical singer.

Frustrated by organizational friction and constant hassles with band lineups, Wüste and Misch decided to do everything as a twosome: self-mixed, self-styled, self-produced. With the top-of-the-line Linn drum machine clocking the beat, Wüste's guitar and Micheline on the Yamaha synthesizer created a unique sound of danceable electronic music. Whereby the Aboriginal Voices acted as a kind of proto-influencer, receiving the latest equipment to try out, especially since they made it a point not to work with tapes, but to design everything for live shows. They had an interface built for the legendary Roland MC-4B, who sequenced the modular Roland System 100M but where one output controlled a light show synchronized with the sound. A pioneering act that fit well into the DIY spirit of punk, with its self-distributed tapes and fuck-you attitude towards the cretins of the music industry. Consequently only two cassettes and an EP were released. There was something futuristic about the sound, the vestiary style and the electronics, while the attitude remained rebellious. Of course something so deeped in the Zeitgeist wasn't meant to last. Wüste moved to New York, Micheline stayed in Zurich, both still active in the music scene to this day.

Sven Regener, head of the band Element of Crime and one of Germany's most successful pop writer said a few years ago when asked if he knew of any Swiss music: "Of course! In 1983, a Swiss band called Aboriginal Voices played with us at a festival in Zurich. Great, avant-garde electro-pop. That was my first encounter."

If you ever saw them live, you never forgot them, and so over the years you belonged to a teeny-tiny circle of insiders, happy to be joined after all these years by new aficionados who appreciate the sound of that quarter-hour, when Zurich was ravishing, creative and exciting.

- Thomas Haemmerli

Madonna is the first and only recording artist to have 50 number 1 hits on any single Billboard chart. To celebrate this historic milestone, Madonna has curated a new collection titled Finally Enough Love which includes her favourite remixes of those chart-topping dance hits that have filled clubs worldwide for four decades.

This collection highlights You Can Dance, Madonna’s first ever remix collection. Celebrating 35 years this year, You Can Dance has sold more than five million copies worldwide and is still the second best-selling remix album of all time. The collection also pays homage to “Everybody,” Madonna’s first single. Each remix is newly remastered for the collection by Mike Dean, who produced Madonna’s two most-recent studio albums, Rebel Heart (2015) and Madame X (2019). Along with those rarities, this album also introduces the “Offer Nissim Promo Mix” of “Living For Love” as its first official release.

She not only popularized fado throughout South America, she reinvented it; singing material that moved far beyond the traditional tales of failed romance to explore instead the deepest crises of the soul and spirit.

Limited edition audiophile pressing on 180gram premium vinyl.
Thanks to her, an internationally unknown folk music like Portuguese fado became a medium of universal expression known throughout the world. This collection includes some of her greatest hits, including such perennial classics as
"Uma Casa Portuguesa", "Ai Mouraria", and the unforgettable "Coimbra", also known as April in Portugal.

AMÁLIA RODRIGUES, vocals, with:
Jaime Santos - Portuguese guitar, Santos Moreira - Spanish classical guitar, Domingo Camarinha - Portuguese guitar, Castro Mota - Spanish classical guitar,Raul Nery - Portuguese guitar,José Nunes - Portuguese guitar. Orchestra conducted by Frederico Valério.
Sessions recorded between 1951 and 1962 in Lisbon Paris, and London.

Known as the Soul Queen of New Orleans, singer Irma Thomas (born in 1941) is arguably the most underrated soul singer ever
Although her voice and musical expression are unparalleled, she never achieved the same degree of fame as her contemporaries Aretha Franklin and Etta James.

Nevertheless, her 50-year career has been highly praised in recent years, and she even won a Grammy in 2007. This 18- track vinyl release compiles all of the sessions she recorded with renowned producer Allen Toussaint, who also composed most of the songs. Here is one of America's most distinctive and classic singers, a treasure from the golden age of soul music.

All tracks recorded in New Orleans between 1959 and 1962 and originally issued on 45rpm singles

With her hypnotizing voice and vivid lyricism, Jackie Mendoza makes fantastical, intimate electro-pop propelled by ukulele-based dance grooves. Having grown up between her birthplace of Chula Vista, California and Tijuana, Mexico, the 29-year-old singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist bridges these two worlds with dynamic soundscapes that pull from Latin pop, electronic music, and indie pop. She creates a musical universe that exists beyond strict borders of genre and geography, giving her the space to traverse the vast expanse of her interiority. Mendoza first started performing in 2014 as the vocalist for Brooklyn dream pop bands Gingerlys and Lunarette. She then broke out as a solo artist with her 2016 pop hits "Islands" and "La Luz," which showcased her imagery-packed, yet deeply introspective lyrics. On LuvHz, her 2019 adventurous debut EP that was initially inspired by a painful breakup, she turned her personal experiences into songs that observe greater truths about the world around her. As a result, the project became a broader reflection on varying forms of love, in relationships with your partner, your culture, and the natural environment. Mendoza expands this approach on her debut album, Galaxia de Emociones (Galaxy of Emotions), which sees her exploring a great range of feelings, from depression, celebration, outrage, numbness, hopelessness, and thrilling love. She uses each emotion as a portal to convey the intricacies of her experience as a queer, first-generation Mexican American woman, who actively defies and criticizes machismo and the Christian culture she was surrounded by. Brought up in the suburban border town of Chula Vista, she recalls being told by her parents to not mix English with Spanish, but speaking "spanglish" quickly became inevitable. It wasn't until high school, that learning to play ukulele and singing in school musicals allowed her to authentically express herself. "This album is about finding the courage to not only face my emotions, but also sharing them by singing them out loud." Mendoza says. The project was co-written and co-produced by Mendoza and Rusty Santos (Animal Collective, Panda Bear), with a contribution from Grammy winning producer and accordionist Ulises Lozano. As Galaxia de Emociones cruises from shimmering indie pop to accordion-laced electronic norteño, Mendoza proves there is both power and tenderness in embracing the fullness of your being and not doubting your instincts that might have been discouraged by society. She says it all in the opening song, "Natural," which blooms with spacey synths and twinkling ukulele plucks. "There is no use in controlling what comes natural to you," she sings in Spanish in a spellbinding loop. With her new album, she hopes that listeners can connect with her words and look within to explore their own galaxy of emotions.

clear yellow viny

Long-running acid master Luke Vibert returns on De:tuned with a new 11 track album devoted to the iconic silver box. 'Machine Funk' characterizes Luke's unique perspective on the acid house movement. The LP portrays an idiosyncratic blend of acidic squelch and raw energy with a signature fresh and playful vibe expressed in rhythmic compositions of a particular finesse and elegance. Essential 303 business!

Ian Anderson at The Designers Republic created all the graphic work. Mastered by Matt Colton at Metropolis and pressed on 180 gr vinyl. A separate digital release will also be available at the usual digital shops. Stay tuned!

American singer-songwriter, poet, and photographer Thomas Meluch, known musically as Benoît Pioulard, returns with his most structured and vocal release to date. Titled »Eidetic,« a word denoting the ability to recall mental images with extraordinarily rich precision, the album presents unprecedented clarity and vitality for Benoît Pioulard. To access its thematic ground, Meluch looked inward with an affinity towards the people he loves during a period marked by his move from Seattle to Brooklyn in 2019. The resulting work engages with the universe's unflinching mortality and, as he says, »the ways it has modified and improved my relationships, especially with family.« Embodied by the creek, leaves, and ferns of the cover photography — taken in Michigan’s Burchfield Park, where he and his dad used to hike and »muse on existence« — the music glistens and unfurls with the flow of life he’s come to know. »Eidetic« is the culmination of Meluch's craft both as a producer and writer. An evocative sonic vocabulary meets deft lyrical introspection, articulated with the nuance, vulnerability, and confidence of a longtime artist hitting a stride.

Meluch has continually refined, redefined, and adjusted the focus of his gentle pop project over the last 20 years. Recorded primarily with guitar, tapes, and voice — and spanning labels with albums for Kranky, Morr Music, Beacon Sound, and Past Inside the Present — his catalog flows seamlessly between ambient improvisation and pop composition. Much like the analog photos that often accompany his releases, songs can feel dreamily softened and distant, and others beautifully vivid and detailed. 2021 full-length »Bloodless« found Meluch deep in droning decay, expressive yet wordless. With »Eidetic,« he swings back to sharpened forms. Lush banks of treated guitar and synth brush against hushed percussion; there is mist in the distance, but everything up close is intricately constructed and radiant. Meluch's voice is notably forward in the mix — a warm and calming tenor, a harmonic coo more than a whisper — ever-observant and actively processing.

To record much of the album, Meluch filled a cabin in rural Maine with his usual setup of simple percussion, a couple of Fender electrics, and a parlor guitar made by his friend who does bespoke luthier work. The modest utility is what he knows best, and here he pushes the output to its most pristine potential.

»Eidetic« opens in a swirl of familiar haze; »Margaret Murie« eases listeners in, as lush and verdant as the landscapes conserved by its famed namesake. With the setting established, Meluch, the narrator, enters the foreground with »Crux,« a tender piece written about finding new motivations in a new city. »We covet this rare green hue / Here at the farthest point from home,« he sings above a reassuring pattern of strums and percussion. Meluch's prose shines on the swiftly-moving »Nameless,« inspired by the neurological effects that came with the antiquated practice of manufacturing mercury mirrors; »folks would slowly go insane while looking into their own reflections every day,« he adds. The idea informs a series of surreal abstractions before everything drops out in the final minute, and we are left free-floating in eerie nothingness.

Across the album, labyrinthine lyrical ponderings scatter with dazzling imagery, artfully blurring scenes from world history with Meluch's more personal, present-day. The propulsive and earnest »Thursday Night« catches his mind overly active and too stoned, riffing on black holes and songwriting itself. »Halve« references the splitting of the atom, what he considers »the beginning of man's downfall,« and the unrealized initiative proposed by the US government that would have created 'nuclear refuges' in its national parks. Meluch's loved ones weave throughout; »Tet« holds his father's experience in Vietnam and its lasting effects. »Lillian Isola« touches on his maternal grandmother's spinal curvature, and »Pastel Dust« navigates the wake of his cat, who died on New Year's Eve 2020.

At first blush, Meluch's atmospheric and melodic sensibilities resonate purely in their own right. Upon closer meditation, his ability to render stories — many of which surround human tragedy, misfortune, and understanding — through the prism of his poetry makes »Eidetic« even more rewarding.

Dark Green Vinyl

American singer-songwriter, poet, and photographer Thomas Meluch, known musically as Benoît Pioulard, returns with his most structured and vocal release to date. Titled »Eidetic,« a word denoting the ability to recall mental images with extraordinarily rich precision, the album presents unprecedented clarity and vitality for Benoît Pioulard. To access its thematic ground, Meluch looked inward with an affinity towards the people he loves during a period marked by his move from Seattle to Brooklyn in 2019. The resulting work engages with the universe's unflinching mortality and, as he says, »the ways it has modified and improved my relationships, especially with family.« Embodied by the creek, leaves, and ferns of the cover photography — taken in Michigan’s Burchfield Park, where he and his dad used to hike and »muse on existence« — the music glistens and unfurls with the flow of life he’s come to know. »Eidetic« is the culmination of Meluch's craft both as a producer and writer. An evocative sonic vocabulary meets deft lyrical introspection, articulated with the nuance, vulnerability, and confidence of a longtime artist hitting a stride.

Meluch has continually refined, redefined, and adjusted the focus of his gentle pop project over the last 20 years. Recorded primarily with guitar, tapes, and voice — and spanning labels with albums for Kranky, Morr Music, Beacon Sound, and Past Inside the Present — his catalog flows seamlessly between ambient improvisation and pop composition. Much like the analog photos that often accompany his releases, songs can feel dreamily softened and distant, and others beautifully vivid and detailed. 2021 full-length »Bloodless« found Meluch deep in droning decay, expressive yet wordless. With »Eidetic,« he swings back to sharpened forms. Lush banks of treated guitar and synth brush against hushed percussion; there is mist in the distance, but everything up close is intricately constructed and radiant. Meluch's voice is notably forward in the mix — a warm and calming tenor, a harmonic coo more than a whisper — ever-observant and actively processing.

To record much of the album, Meluch filled a cabin in rural Maine with his usual setup of simple percussion, a couple of Fender electrics, and a parlor guitar made by his friend who does bespoke luthier work. The modest utility is what he knows best, and here he pushes the output to its most pristine potential.

»Eidetic« opens in a swirl of familiar haze; »Margaret Murie« eases listeners in, as lush and verdant as the landscapes conserved by its famed namesake. With the setting established, Meluch, the narrator, enters the foreground with »Crux,« a tender piece written about finding new motivations in a new city. »We covet this rare green hue / Here at the farthest point from home,« he sings above a reassuring pattern of strums and percussion. Meluch's prose shines on the swiftly-moving »Nameless,« inspired by the neurological effects that came with the antiquated practice of manufacturing mercury mirrors; »folks would slowly go insane while looking into their own reflections every day,« he adds. The idea informs a series of surreal abstractions before everything drops out in the final minute, and we are left free-floating in eerie nothingness.

Across the album, labyrinthine lyrical ponderings scatter with dazzling imagery, artfully blurring scenes from world history with Meluch's more personal, present-day. The propulsive and earnest »Thursday Night« catches his mind overly active and too stoned, riffing on black holes and songwriting itself. »Halve« references the splitting of the atom, what he considers »the beginning of man's downfall,« and the unrealized initiative proposed by the US government that would have created 'nuclear refuges' in its national parks. Meluch's loved ones weave throughout; »Tet« holds his father's experience in Vietnam and its lasting effects. »Lillian Isola« touches on his maternal grandmother's spinal curvature, and »Pastel Dust« navigates the wake of his cat, who died on New Year's Eve 2020.

At first blush, Meluch's atmospheric and melodic sensibilities resonate purely in their own right. Upon closer meditation, his ability to render stories — many of which surround human tragedy, misfortune, and understanding — through the prism of his poetry makes »Eidetic« even more rewarding.

Within any creative expression about love there's a shared experience, a sentiment hard to articulate but understood through emotion. One of the defining examples of a song that holds such sincerity is 'My Heart Is Broken' by 'The Four Dudes'.

Charles 'Pooky' Russell, the lead singer of 'The Four Dudes' shares his story of a broken heart; his ambition to pursue a life immersed in music is what led Charles to leave his hometown of San Antonio for Houston and in doing so, leaving his lady. Charles' music career began whilst studying at Sam Houston High during the mid-60s. During choir is where he met Reginald Whitaker & Lawrence Alexander, and the trio would go on to establish their first vocal harmony group, 'The Three Dudes'. The Dudes, inspired by groups such as The Cadillacs & The Platters, would gain a strong local following that led to their first single 'Sad Little Boy' & 'I'm Beggin' You' produced & released in 1967 on E.J. Henke's 'Satin' label.

By 1969, 'The Three Dudes' had become 'The Four Dudes' with the addition of Kenneth Ball. The Dudes had made the decision to pursue a full time career with their music and the opportunities available Houston propelled the move. Within the first year 'The Four Dudes' had found themselves a manager, James Davis, whom pieced the vocal group with Houston's own 'The Heavy Accents Band'. The group were gaining notoriety around town, performing several times a week, which led Davis to bring the outfit into the studio to release a single on his independent label, 'Sivad-J'. It was when Davis heard 'My Heart Is Broken' for the first time that they decided this would be the single, and within the same year would be recorded at SugarHill Studios & released as a 7" single.

The sincerity of the song is what serenaded Houston across the airwaves in 69', a staple for George 'Boogaloo' Frazier on his show for KYOK 1590 AM amongst many others. The single became a local hit however, due to the lack of distribution and small pressing, the single barely made it out the city limits. 'The Four Dudes' continued to perform in Houston for 3/4 more years before heading to Philadelphia and forming a group called 'Image'.

For the first time since its 1969 release, 'The Four Dudes' single is once again available through Symphonical Records as a limited 7" pressing. Licensed directly through the Davis family with the approval of Charles Russell.

Historically Fucked is a four way entanglement made to create short, eruptive songs and then set about obliterating them from the inside, like improvising a barrel to encase themselves in and then proceeding to lick their way out of it. It is about playing and laughing at playing, and it is about not doing either of those things sometimes. Sometimes it is to do with talking, howling or grunting, and sometimes it is to do with hitting and rubbing.
Historically Fucked contains four people, who each share the same duties, and whose names in sequence are Otto Willberg, David Birchall, Greta Buitkuté and Alecs Pierce. They are from Manchester and often other places. Guitar, bass, drums and voices keenly jostle amid the group’s frenzy of spontaneous rock throttles. Some of these rampant exercises in avant are collected on ‘The Mule Peasants’ Revolt of 12,067’, the band’s new album, released by Upset The Rhythm on February 3rd. This is the group’s first release since 2018’s mantlepiece staple ‘Aliven Wool’ (Heavy Petting). This is Rock and/or Roll as fertilizer, uncivilised and free, as if one were to imagine what the Plastic Ono Band would’ve hit upon if they had read ‘Riddley Walker’, the sound of an entire timeline of expression put back together back-to-front, misshapen and irradiated.

‘The Mule Peasants’ Revolt of 12,067’ is not mere Sedentary Rock but Blasted Basalt, Frog worshipping cave-funk, harmolodic hullabaloo-wop, a musical game of “badger in the bag”. It is the sound of sacks crammed full of aggregate, a chimerical mind-meld, a seductive din that is to a hound dog in blue suede shoes what a raking of the dorsal fin with a fat marrow pinecone is to a pelican in the midst of being fired from the academy.

‘The Mule Peasants’ Revolt of 12,067’ by Historically Fucked was recorded by Rory Salter, mixed by Otto Willberg and mastered by Mikey Young. The liminally worrisome artwork was painted by John Cobweaver.

“They say these days that History is Fucked. Nothing ever dies but continues to rule the earth as an undead tyrant that cannot accept its own decomposition, look earwardly upon the dance of the proudly dead and decrepit!”

Vymethoxy Redspiders, Leeds 2022

Waxwork Records is proud to present the Us Original Motion Picture Soundtrack featuring a score by composer Michael Abels. Us, released in March 2019, is an original nightmare written, directed and produced by Academy Awardr-winning visionary Jordan Peele (Get Out). Set in present day Santa Cruz on the iconic Northern California coastline, the film, starring Oscarr winner Lupita Nyong'o and Black Panther's Winston Duke, pits an ordinary American family against a terrifying and uncanny opponent: doppelgängers of themselves. A blockbuster that earned raves from critics and audiences alike, Us earned more than $250 million at the worldwide box office to become one the highest grossing R-rated horror films of all time, buoyed by an unexpected and innovative soundtrack and by a groundbreaking, terrifying original score by Abels. Us marks the second collaboration between composer Abels and Peele, who first worked together on Peele's 2017 Oscar-winning horror film, Get Out. For the Us score, Abels explored themes of duality and discord. "Sonically, what defines 'scary' is the unfamiliar," Abels says. "It is the things that we can't place, and that we don't expect, that take us to that place of fear. We wanted to really strike terror into the audience." Central to the score was the opening track, an anthem for the doppelgängers, known in the film as The Tethered. Abels hit on the idea of using choral elements. "Jordan really loves the sounds of voices, and the human voice is an incredibly expressive instrument that anyone can relate to," Abels says. "The anthem sounds a little like a march of people preparing for battle, like an uprising maybe, but the sounds are not in a recognizable language. In other parts of the film there are vocal effects, just these strange sounds. They're designed to really freak people out." Abels featured a 30 person choir, a third of them children, in the "Anthem," and implemented Eastern European instruments, violins, percussion and a virtual instrument called a Propanium drum. "It makes this trashy metal sound, but you can also play melodies on it," Abels said. "The Propanium drum has a sound that's both otherworldly but not electronic or like science fiction. It's a sound you can't quite put your finger on, which is why it works well in this film." Also included on the soundtrack is the 1995 hip-hop hit "I Got 5 On It" by Luniz and the stand-out track "I Like That" by Janelle Monáe. Abels also helped with a new arrangement of the Luniz hit, which is featured on the soundtrack as the 'Tethered Mix from Us'.



































[xi] 35 I GOT 5 ON IT (FEAT. MICHAEL MARSHALL) [TETHERED MIX FROM US] - LUNIZ

Following the April 2022 reissue of the album Shrimp Boats, We Are Busy
Bodies presents companion titles Plum and Cherry and Deeper in Black
to round out a Lionel Pillay and Basil Mannenberg Coetzee trilogy as part
of the label's As-Shams South African jazz archive series
The connection between these three albums is tight as the 1987 release Shrimp
Boats compiled unreleased recordings from both the 1979 session for Plum and
Cherry and the 1980 session for Deeper in Black. These two rare records have
been carefully remastered from their original tapes and are back in print for the
very first time in over 40 years.Shrimp Boats and Plum and Cherry capture the
extraordinary musical chemistry that existed between pianist Lionel Pillay and
tenor saxophonist Basil Coetzee in the late 1970s. The respective album
showpieces Shrimp Boats and Cherry each occupy an entire side of vinyl with
both exquisite musical journeys clocking in at an epic 25 minutes a piece. While
Shrimp Boats was an instrumental reimagining of the popular 1951 song by
American singer Jo Stafford, Cherry drew inspiration from Abdullah Ibrahim at the
behest of producer Rashid Vally, who wanted to emulate the success of the
famous track that had helped launch his independent As-Shams/The Sun record
label in 1974.
Ibrahim's hit Mannenberg had also featured Basil Coetzee and it was this zeitgeist
South African jazz recording that had given rise to his stage name. Capturing the
grace and vitality of working- class township life on the city fringe, Cherry
channels the type of laid-back Cape groove that Abdullah Ibrahim, recording as
Dollar Brand, introduced to South African jazz in the 1970s. On the flip side, Plum
appears to take its own simple chord change in the same direction before
breaking into a chugging 20-minute romp that verges on proto-electronica and on
which Pillay hangs all manner of savage keyboard riffing and experimentation.
The two distinct flavours of Plum and Cherry make for a well-rounded platter with
an iconic cover featuring the work of abstract expressionist painter and AsShams/The Sun collaborator Hargreaves Ntukwana.

The old adage about Elvis Presley is that his soundtrack work never held a candle next to his studio albums. Though true for a majority of his film-related outings, the traditional notion is forever disproved by his Blue Hawaii set. Originally released in 1961 in support of the film in which he starred, the triple-platinum LP spent nearly five months at the top of the Billboard album charts; outsold his two prior studio efforts; and ultimately, remains the second-best-selling soundtrack of the musical-dominant 1960s. And now, it has received sonic treatment befitting rock royalty.

Recorded before the King started to burn out on soundtracks and go into a creative tailspin, Blue Hawaii presents him in tremendous voice. The newly uncovered layers of detail, body, emotionalism, and tonality on this SACD bring that treasured element – as well as the brilliance of the arrangements and accompaniment – to light like never before. Presley's warm crooning alone warrants unmitigated attention. It's not for nothing that this record – replete with panache, whimsy, romance, and seriousness – forever altered the course of his career.

Much like the film itself, the music on Blue Hawaii subscribes to a feel-good aesthetic. Presley plunges into a stylistic deep end with equal parts fearlessness and fun. He delves into early rock ‘n' roll ("Rock-A-Hula Baby"); touching balladry ("Hawaiian Wedding Song"); playful rumba ("Beach Boy Blues"); relaxing luaus ("Hawaiian Sunset"); and naturally, island-inspired fare ("Ku-U-I-Po"). It becomes immediately evident that the King is enjoying himself and committed to the mission. Is Blue Hawaii all serious art? No, but it was never intended to be. Rather, it serves as a showcase of Presley's outgoing personality and chameleon-like ability – like that of Frank Sinatra – to inhabit different roles and entertain.

Of course, Blue Hawaii remains timeless for another reason: The inclusion of the timeless, gorgeous, and still-untouchable staple "Can't Help Falling in Love." Penned by Hugo Peretti, Luigi Creatore, and George David Weiss, the love song quickly transformed into an international standard – with Presley's definitive version hitting No. 2 on the charts and ultimately becoming the closing song to his concerts. Ranked among the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time by Rolling Stone, its conviction, sentiment, and depth testify on behalf of why Presley still reigns as the King.

However subtly, the staple also underscores another reason Blue Hawaii should never be overlooked in Presley's canon: the ace musicians involved in its creation. Guitarists Scotty Moore and Hank Garland; drummer D.J. Fontana; percussionist Hal Blaine; pianist Floyd Cramer; bassist Bob Moore; and iconic gospel backing vocalists the Jordanaires all contribute masterful performances. Hearing them with such expressiveness, openness, and realism on this 2LP 45RPM & SACD should forever alter how Presley's 1961 soundtrack – the finest of his career – is viewed. As he sings in the title track, dreams come true, indeed.

solid white vinyl

This release is fully occupied by dark-disco champion Disco Morato. Here you find two expressive electo-shaped hits previously supported by Dave Clarke. Together with another two straightforward synth poems the record is finished as white color 180gr and underline deep dark sound of the artist.

Wütrio is the first in a series of re-issue albums curated by legendary German DJ, producer and rare vinyl collector Rainer Trueby. 'Wütrio' is the critically-acclaimed album first released in 1987 on the Bremen based label, Thein Records . A label started by Friedrich Thein whose musical pedigree includes links to the world class and world famous Thein Brass instrument makers and retailers. 'Wütrio', the band, originally formed in the Bavarian city of Würzburg and went through line-up changes before recording this album with founding members Robert Schulte Hemming and Rudi Engel complemented by Wolfgang Pusching, Martin Kübert, Peter Wirth and the amazing vocal talents of Beate Kynast. The album is a work of art; Jazz it certainly is, but it is so much more than this one genre as it moves like a cabaret aboard the Trans-Europe Express travelling across genres and changing tracks as it picks up Samba, Jazz-Rock, Fusion, Electro-Funk and the New York Avant-Garde on its journey. From his time as one half of production duo 'A Forest Mighty Black', Rainer Trueby has been at the forefront of cutting edge Black music as creator, disseminator and curator. Previous releases through BBE include the must have 2020 compilation 'Soulgliding' and co-productions with DJ Kon on the 'Kon and the Gang' album from 2016. It is worth noting that it is Rainer himself who gave the name 'Soulgliding' to a genre of certain paced and soulful groove of music that now bears that name. His selection of the 'Wütrio' album to kick off a highly collectable series of re-issues is an inspired choice.

What It Means To be Human is the second in a series of four albums from Jasper Høiby’s Planet B, featuring saxophonist Josh Arcoleo and drummer Marc Michel, that focus on global topics of vital importance - Humanity, Climate Change, Artificial intelligence and Monetary Reform. This album seeks connection. A connection between humanity and the planet, between the problems we all face and about an opportunistic optimism to fix them. The mastermind is Jasper Høiby, the esteemed and revered Danish bassist and the deeply reflective, expressive and visionary artist. Whilst there are many moments that display the virtuosity and hard-hitting grooves of Phronesis, the long-standing band that shot Jasper to the limelight, Planet B offers additional rewards of subtle expression. The music is captivating and highly absorbing, enhanced by soundscapes of electronics and interspersed with powerful, emotive speech by some unique and forward-thinking female minds including Grace Lee Boggs, Ruby Sales and Jane Goddall. They all share a profound understanding of the world, only achievable through practical wisdom, each offering their individual take on where we are as a species and what we can do to improve. At the heart of the album is the trio. A group of like-minded and creative souls where the focus is all about the collective sound. As a whole, the music is a powerful, mesmerising and poignant display of musicianship, integrity and storytelling. What it Means To Be Human is an album at the forefront of the creative European scene.

As a teen Kim Salmon blew his mind on the fusion of Miles Davis' Bitches Brew, the stellar freakout of Sun Ra's 'Space is the Place' and the generally unhinged groove of Can's Ege Bamyasi. They showed him an alternative to just 'playin the blooze'. Then Punk Rock came along! The earlier inspirations, however, where not idealistically opposed to the free expression espoused by the punk movement. Some of the freeform freakout fusion can be heard in Kim's seminal band the Scientists on tracks like Nitro, Revhead and Human Jukebox, in fact most of what the band played throughout the nineteen eighties. As that band and decade came to a close Kim resolved to give free reign to that avant garde, jazz, in fact, downright weird streak, on his 'solo' venture The Surrealists. Their debut 'Hit Me with the Surreal Feel' is soaked in it all! Alas, as the nineties progressed, so did this band into a highly respected but conventional indie rock band. It did much successful touring around Europe, the USA and Australia on its own and with the likes of, U2, The Bad Seeds, Jon Spencer and the Cramps. It's best known and best selling album was 1993's Sin Factory. With the 2006 reunion of the Surrealists, for the Spanish Azkena Festival, Kim was re-acquainted with the free jazz/noise/ fusion bug and resolved to get the band back together for at least long enough to work through what it started back in the late 1980s. Recorded throughout 2008 and 2009 over a series of live sessions, 'Grand Unifying Theory' has the band given some framework compositions by Kim. The band - Kim, Stu Thomas and Phil Collings - then takes these ideas to the outer limits of punk/jazz/ thrash freakout!. The results are taken by Kim and producer Mike Stranges and assembled into the most far out music Kim Salmon has been responsible for to date! 'Grand Unifying Theory' with its polyrhythmic beats, its atonal keys, its heavy funk/punk grooves, its spaced out use of equipment buzz and Dictaphone.

HOAXED unveil their captivating and catchy debut full-length, Two Shadows! Comprised of vocalist/guitarist Kat Keo and drummer Kim Coffel, HOAXED's superlative blend of styles—heavy melodic rock with captivating hooks, gothic undertones, undeniable metal, and tinges of americana - pave the way for a singular expression that’s entirely their own. Two Shadows is as unique as it is memorable and catchy. The record thrusts, retreats, and beguiles across its melody-powered and hook-driven expanse, with earworms “The Call,” “Guilty Ones,” and “The Knowing” serving as the album’s crucial lighthouses. Formed in Portland, Oregon, in 2020, HOAXED's initial songwriting plan casts a wide net. The breach opened up considerably as Coffel and Keo explored the outer edges of their musical influences and artistic aspirations. After fruitful songwriting sessions, the twosome self-released their eponymous four- song EP in February 2021. Signaled by the whirring, diaphanous spell of video single "Candle Master", HOAXED caught the attention of Relapse Records, who signed the outfit in 2021. As a live act, the pair has already hit the ground running, rocking the stage with Unto Others, Blackwater Holylight, and Amorphis, and hailed as an “absolute riot on stage.” (Metal Insider) Shortform: HOAXED unveil their captivating and catchy debut full-length, Two Shadows! Comprised of vocalist/guitarist Kat Keo and drummer Kim Coffel, HOAXED’s superlative blend of styles— heavy melodic rock with captivating hooks, gothic undertones, undeniable metal, and tinges of americana —paves the way for a singular expression that’s entirely their own. FFO: (Early) Ghost, Black Sabbath, Tribulation, My Dying Bride, Unto Others, Blood Ceremony, Katatonia

For Fans Of Temples, Allah-Las, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Khruangbin, David Axelrod. Each song on Ghost Funk Orchestra's 3rd album, A New Kind of Love, due to be released on Colemine Records … 2022, resonates like the soundtrack to a scene from an imaginary movie. The music could score a romantic drama, an action thriller, or a modern twist on a classic film noir. The spare, cascading vocals accentuate the lush instrumental orchestrations composed, performed, arranged and produced by multi-instrumentalist Seth Applebaum, whose latest brainchild was conceived and conceptualized during The Great Pause of 2020, a time of tension, bewilderment and isolation. Evoking the grooviness of an era which preceded his arrival on earth, Applebaum draws upon sonic devices of mid-century exotica and the succinct but dense arranging style of the leaders of the pop orchestras which dominated the hit parades of the 60s and early 70s. He blends impressions of this bygone era with an expression of his actual experiences as a young filmmaker coming of age in the 21st century, citing influences such as Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings and Antibalas. A New Kind of Love encompasses a reverence for the past without attempting to recreate it. In the tradition of the "production forward" discographies of such record makers as David Axelrod and the Mizell Brothers, it's easy to visualize Applebaum as a "mad doctor" figure, hunkered down in a studio channeling this musical representation of his inner world into the 12 compositions which make up A New Kind of Love. His writing stretches his psyche to explore a terrain in which to capture emotional notes of love going well, love gone sour, manifesting love songs based in ghostly affairs. While the studio is obviously a wondrous happy place of experimentation and creativity for Applebaum, he's a band guy too (having actually fronted punk outfit The Mad Doctors). Applebaum has the wherewithal to bring his dreamy material to the 10 piece all star Ghost Funk Orchestra, leading them to breathe life into this sophisticated body of work which heralds the celebration of a new era for the group. Ghost Funk Orchestra will be touring in concert this summer and fall to celebrate the release of A New Kind of Love, an album which is sure to stand the test of time. Also Available From Ghost Funk Orch: Night Walker/Death Waltz LP/CD, Opaque Red LP, An Ode To Escapism LP/CD, A Song For Paul LP / CD 1. Introduction 2. Your Man's No Good 3. Scatter 4. Prism 5. Quiet Places 6. A New Kind Of Love (pt. 1) 7. Why? 8. Blockhead 9. A Song For Pearl 10. Bluebell 11. Rooted 12. A New Kind Of Love (pt. 2)

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

With more than 30 years in the game, D.I.T.C. affiliate Andre the Giant of Showbiz & A.G. fame continues to prove that his pen game is better than ever with the release of his latest full length effort, Giant In The Mental.

The album title is more than just a reference to one of his earliest tracks; it’s a statement that he remains head and shoulders above the competition like the rap giant that he is. And he’s proudly doing it all on his own with this record, without any guest appearances.

“I am really not moved by guest appearances,” A.G. explains. “Music for me is mostly therapy, and I don’t need anyone else to help me vent and express my thoughts.” He’s absolutely right, because across the 10 tracks on Giant In The Mental, he skillfully unpacks and tackles a number of different topics with his trademark wit and wisdom.

The Bronx rap legend straight-up kills it on every level, too, from clever wordplay to engaging storytelling raps. If you want his bully bars, just listen to the hard-hitting opening track, “Andre The Giant,” with speaker-thumping production from DJ Manipulator. And for storytelling, you can dig into the beautifully written and smooth “Summer School” or the cinematic and stirring “The Sphinx.”

It all amounts to a truly impressive and cohesive piece of work from A.G., who is eager to continue creating art until he can’t meet his own standards. “If I can’t perform at a high level then it’s time to stop!” he says before adding that pushing himself creatively is what this is all about for him. His integrity and passion for the artform is palpable, and it’s those qualities that have helped him remain such a necessary voice—and force— in music.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Madfish are extremely proud to present:

LAURA NYRO - AMERICAN DREAMER

An 8LP Deluxe Vinyl Box Set housing 7 of Laura’s breathtaking original albums - More Than A New Discovery, Eli And The Thirteenth Confession, New York Tendaberry, Christmas And The Beads Of Sweat, Gonna Take A Miracle, Smile & Nested, alongside an original LP of Rarities & Live Recordings.

During the singer/songwriter movement in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s, Laura Nyro was one of the most celebrated tunesmiths of her day. She penned soulful, literate songs that took the folky introspection of her peers and infused it with elements of soul, R&B, jazz, and gospel, giving them an emotional heat that set her apart. Nyro was a hugely respected recording artist, whose confident piano work and rich, expressive vocals made other sonic trailblazers such as Miles Davis and Alice Coltrane navigate towards her. She has influenced the greatest of songwriters - Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, Elton John, Neil Young, Carole King, Kate Bush and Elvis Costello among them. That influence continues today being heard in the works of Alicia Keys, Tori Amos, Suzanne Vega, Jenny Lewis and more. Nyro’s wonderfully
expressive and poetic songs – of which many became major hits by other artists, most notably The 5th Dimension, Three Dog Night and Barbra Streisand – remain hallmarks of outstanding quality. ‘Eli’s Comin’, ‘Gibsom Street’, ‘Wedding Bell Blues’, ‘And When I Die’, ‘Stoned Soul Picnic’, ‘Map To The Treasure’, ‘Sweet Blindness’ and ‘Stoney End’ are magnificent examples. Nyro was 18 years old when
she signed her first recording contract and wrote the songs for which she is likely to be best remembered. By the time she was 22, she had become one of the most successful composers in American popular music. But at the age of just 24, she drew back from her creativity and fame, battered and drained by the sheer energy and nerve required to sustain her career. Fortunately for those of us who loved her music, that was not the end of the story. She returned briefly to the fray for three turbulent years in the mid-to-late 1970s, and then enjoyed a final decade of artistic achievement and public acclaim, before illness took her from us at the tragically early age of 49 in 1997. Nyro found her early fame challenging yet despite living under an unrelenting spotlight, she was able to create this series of utterly beautiful
and stunningly unique albums.