Buscar:house kids

Communique Records USA, reactivated the superb house-sublabel Sensuist Records!

Soon in the rebound: SEN006 by Chris Brann also known as part of famous Wamdue Kids!

The first re-issue since 1997 will be available on solid 180 Gramm vinyl.
Recorded from original DAT and re-mastered.

What Mom Jeans have proved themselves capable of in the past 2 years is nothing short of fantastic. Growing from ordinary college students to national touring artists in a matter of months, the indie rock quartet has been on a trajectory most bands could only dream of. The DIY touring route quickly had to fall by the wayside, as 200, sometimes 300, kids were showing up to house shows in basements across the country. Often, the band wouldn’t make it through more than a few songs before police had to come shut it down. Now, you can find them in venues of increasing size around the states, as one of the most sought after acts in their genre. On a constant stream of buzz, pressing after pressing of their debut hit “Best Buds” (2016) has sold out and the fans cannot get enough of the music they have been putting out. Music that takes influence from predecessors such as Modern Baseball and The Front Bottoms, but adds that new flavor that sets them into a league of their own, The Mom Jeans craze is just beginning.

ONE SIDED BLACK VINYL.
First ever release of the scariest, most inappropriate and possibly most influential kids TV music of ALL TIME.
'A first-ever release to the series' alarmingly experimental soundtrack'
SHINDIG! Five Page Feature.

There is only 17 minutes of music throughout the series, so we have fitted it all onto a one sided LP. Artwork is by Julian House – legendary hauntologist (Belbury Poly etc) and the man behind some of the greatest spooky band artwork of all time- Stereolab, Broadcast, Primal Scream etc etc.
Sleevenotes by Stewart Lee and inner sleeve notes by Alan Gubby of Buried Treasure Records.
It all looks and sounds superb. Of course it does because it’s a Trunk Records release. AND REMEMBER THIS IS NOT A REISSUE!!! SO DON’T SAY IT IS WHEN YOU TRY AND SELL IT.
anyone who watched was scared shitless. The 7 part drama centred around disturbing happenings in a strange pagan village of very weird and unusually happy people, all set in the midst of the stone circle at Avebury – known as Milbury for the show.
The series shown across British TV (and USA TV in 1980) would scar, disturb and influence an entire generation. Without COTS it’s unlikely we’d have hauntology, spooky folk stuff, stone circle clubs, weird walks and a hunger for such pagan oddities everywhere. And COTS really is the key TV series in many of these modern movements, way before The Wicker Man. Even though The Wicker Man was released in 1973 it was an adult film only released to a few cinemas.
Very few people saw it and its influence really started in the late 1990s with the first release of the music. Whereas COTS on the other hand was shown at 5pm, on schooldays, to a whole nation of impressionable kids, who had never seen or heard anything quite like it. The power of COTS runs deep. So much so Stewart Lee made a whole documentary about it. The release of this long-awaited album will be a “Happy Day” for many.
THE MUSIC:
According to rumour the director of the show was listening to Penderecki as he first approached Avebury to scope out locations. Sidney Sager and The Ambrosian Singers produced an avant-garde and often quite oddly terrifying sequence of vocal drones and dramatic peaks based on ancient Icelandic singular word “Hadave”. And yes, it’s still scary.

If it's really a post-genre world, why does everything sound the same? The two halves of Tampa rap duo They Hate Change_Dre (he/him) and Vonne (they/them)_first came together in front of the apartment complex where they both lived as teens. Dre had just moved down from Rochester, NY; Vonne was trying to sell him bad weed. It was clear from the start that the two listen to music differently from most people_they're sonic omnivores, obsessive deep-divers, lovers of rare and radical sounds. Starting as kids trawling the internet for tracks, they've been collecting music from around the world and across the decades, amassing a shared sonic knowledge so deep that "encyclopedic" barely begins to cover it _ not just the East Coast hip-hop that Dre grew up on, or the hyperlocal bass-music variants like jook (the Gulf Coast's twerkably raunchy answer to house) and crank (think "Miami bass meets NOLA bounce"), but also drum `n' bass, Chicago footwork, post-punk, prog (they're, like, seriously into prog), grime, krautrock, emo, and basically any genre on the map. Once they graduated to DJs on the Tampa DIY scene _ which includes everything from punk rock house parties to the black "teen nights" that pop up in rec centers and ballrooms _ they figured out how to pull all these disparate sounds together into a cohesive style. More importantly, they figured out how to make it something people will actually move to. When they made the transition to rapping and making beats, they brought that pleasure-seeking approach to sonic experimentation with them. "With this album, Vonne says, "it's really like, okay, you know how you talk about the internet breaking down borders? Here's what that actually sounds like. It's not just a hip-hop record with a couple more weird sounds. You want homegrown DIY? This is a record that was written, produced, and recorded in a 150-squarefoot bedroom from the least cool city you could think of." Finally, New is what a truly post-genre musical landscape is supposed to be: building deep connections that transcend outdated distinctions between them, spilling over with the joy of exploration and possibility, and daring other artists to think broader, go deeper, take bigger risks. Let the rest of them keep playing by the old rules_They Hate Change will keep changing the game.

Ltd edition Double Sky Blue Vinyl, Gatefold sleeve w/ spot gloss, liner notes + DL card. Classic Double Black vinyl, Gatefold sleeve w/ spot gloss, liner notes + DL card. Bending scuzzy boundaries, ‘Good Bad Not Evil’ is a coming-of-age garage rock classic record. Full of hedonistic delinquent anthems, the fourth studio album from Atlanta punks Black Lips reaches it’s 15 year anniversary. This deluxe edition includes unearthed photos and new liner notes from Jared Swilley and King Khan. The second disc features B-sides and rarities including ‘Cruising’, ‘I Wanna Dance With You’ and ‘Leroy Faster’. ‘Good Bad Not Evil’ perfectly encapsulates the disillusionment of the mid-00s America, slammed between warehouse parties, DIY generator shows and scattered party pics, which was recorded in a little house in Atlanta that had been converted into a studio called the Living Room. Referencing Shangri-Las in the title, this is where their knack for garage gems met Motown; with bass heavy grooves (later remixed by Diplo), a certified country twang and unabashed bravado. Instant hits like ‘Veni Vidi Vici’, ‘Cold Hands’, ‘Bad Kids’ and ‘O Katrina!’ immediately became Black Lips staples. This was a band caught in the eye of the storm, the touring continued, the parties didn’t stop, this was a band bending the scuzzy boundaries of their chosen genre. The record was hailed by the likes of Pitchfork, who proclaimed, “Black Lips are a go-to band for vintage lo-fi freaks, and their raucous live shows have helped them cross over outside of crusty dive bars. ‘Good Bad Not Evil’, however, is the record where naysayers, disinterested friends and acquaintances, people on the street, and anyone else within earshot has to sit up, shut up, and listen.” …and, shut up and listen they did. “A perfect tapestry of sordid pleasure.” NME // “The same rapturous energy as the Sonics and the 13th Floor Elevators.” The Guardian // Track List: Disc One – Good Bad Not Evil. A1 I Saw A Ghost (Lean) A2 O Katrina! A3 Veni Vidi Vici A4 It Feels Alright A5 Navajo A6 Lock and Key A7 How Do You Tell a Child That Someone Has Died B1 Bad Kids B2 Step Right Up B3 Cold Hands B4 Off The Block B5 Slime and Oxygen B6 Transcendental Light… Disc Two - B-Sides & Rarities. C1 Cruising C2 Make It C3 I Wanna Dance With You D1 Best Napkin I Ever Had D2 My Trouble D3 Leroy Faster D4 Buried Alive

Ltd edition Double Sky Blue Vinyl, Gatefold sleeve w/ spot gloss, liner notes + DL card. Classic Double Black vinyl, Gatefold sleeve w/ spot gloss, liner notes + DL card. Bending scuzzy boundaries, ‘Good Bad Not Evil’ is a coming-of-age garage rock classic record. Full of hedonistic delinquent anthems, the fourth studio album from Atlanta punks Black Lips reaches it’s 15 year anniversary. This deluxe edition includes unearthed photos and new liner notes from Jared Swilley and King Khan. The second disc features B-sides and rarities including ‘Cruising’, ‘I Wanna Dance With You’ and ‘Leroy Faster’. ‘Good Bad Not Evil’ perfectly encapsulates the disillusionment of the mid-00s America, slammed between warehouse parties, DIY generator shows and scattered party pics, which was recorded in a little house in Atlanta that had been converted into a studio called the Living Room. Referencing Shangri-Las in the title, this is where their knack for garage gems met Motown; with bass heavy grooves (later remixed by Diplo), a certified country twang and unabashed bravado. Instant hits like ‘Veni Vidi Vici’, ‘Cold Hands’, ‘Bad Kids’ and ‘O Katrina!’ immediately became Black Lips staples. This was a band caught in the eye of the storm, the touring continued, the parties didn’t stop, this was a band bending the scuzzy boundaries of their chosen genre. The record was hailed by the likes of Pitchfork, who proclaimed, “Black Lips are a go-to band for vintage lo-fi freaks, and their raucous live shows have helped them cross over outside of crusty dive bars. ‘Good Bad Not Evil’, however, is the record where naysayers, disinterested friends and acquaintances, people on the street, and anyone else within earshot has to sit up, shut up, and listen.” …and, shut up and listen they did. “A perfect tapestry of sordid pleasure.” NME // “The same rapturous energy as the Sonics and the 13th Floor Elevators.” The Guardian // Track List: Disc One – Good Bad Not Evil. A1 I Saw A Ghost (Lean) A2 O Katrina! A3 Veni Vidi Vici A4 It Feels Alright A5 Navajo A6 Lock and Key A7 How Do You Tell a Child That Someone Has Died B1 Bad Kids B2 Step Right Up B3 Cold Hands B4 Off The Block B5 Slime and Oxygen B6 Transcendental Light… Disc Two - B-Sides & Rarities. C1 Cruising C2 Make It C3 I Wanna Dance With You D1 Best Napkin I Ever Had D2 My Trouble D3 Leroy Faster D4 Buried Alive

If it's really a post-genre world, why does everything sound the same? The two halves of Tampa rap duo They Hate Change_Dre (he/him) and Vonne (they/them)_first came together in front of the apartment complex where they both lived as teens. Dre had just moved down from Rochester, NY; Vonne was trying to sell him bad weed. It was clear from the start that the two listen to music differently from most people_they're sonic omnivores, obsessive deep-divers, lovers of rare and radical sounds. Starting as kids trawling the internet for tracks, they've been collecting music from around the world and across the decades, amassing a shared sonic knowledge so deep that "encyclopedic" barely begins to cover it _ not just the East Coast hip-hop that Dre grew up on, or the hyperlocal bass-music variants like jook (the Gulf Coast's twerkably raunchy answer to house) and crank (think "Miami bass meets NOLA bounce"), but also drum `n' bass, Chicago footwork, post-punk, prog (they're, like, seriously into prog), grime, krautrock, emo, and basically any genre on the map. Once they graduated to DJs on the Tampa DIY scene _ which includes everything from punk rock house parties to the black "teen nights" that pop up in rec centers and ballrooms _ they figured out how to pull all these disparate sounds together into a cohesive style. More importantly, they figured out how to make it something people will actually move to. When they made the transition to rapping and making beats, they brought that pleasure-seeking approach to sonic experimentation with them. "With this album, Vonne says, "it's really like, okay, you know how you talk about the internet breaking down borders? Here's what that actually sounds like. It's not just a hip-hop record with a couple more weird sounds. You want homegrown DIY? This is a record that was written, produced, and recorded in a 150-squarefoot bedroom from the least cool city you could think of." Finally, New is what a truly post-genre musical landscape is supposed to be: building deep connections that transcend outdated distinctions between them, spilling over with the joy of exploration and possibility, and daring other artists to think broader, go deeper, take bigger risks. Let the rest of them keep playing by the old rules_They Hate Change will keep changing the game.

‘Running Out Of Time’ is the first physical single to be taken from Billy Sullivan’s forthcoming debut solo album - due early 2023.

“Lyrically it’s about the idea that once you hit your late twenties, you’re running out of time. That you immediately have to sort a job, a house, relationship, kids. For the only aim to be stability within a mundane scenario. But we’re still fed this idea of ‘normality’ in a time where it’s harder than ever to achieve what is expected. I suppose it’s a response to not living up to those expectations

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.

As this album represents a spiritual return to a foundational past, sonically this record is likewise about going back to our fundamentals and our roots; when Eon and I were two kids with guitars in a bedroom figuring out some songs. Our last album, Mass, featured so many parts. We recorded it in New Orleans at Preservation Hall with a thirteen-piece horn section, percussionists, strings, etc. For the most part, it’s tough to find any guitar on the record. So we decided to simplify and reconnect with what inspired us. We kept the ingredients limited, the palate simple. We went back to our beginnings and rediscovered the joy of just playing on an acoustic, and a bass through a small amp, with a vocal. We spent our days like we used to when we were younger. We hung out and talked about music. If it was sunny we went to the beach. We played some tennis. Then in the afternoon we might play through some ideas. If it sounded good in the front room of the house, we took it to the studio.

Fabrice Lig has melody running through his veins. On his quest to explore his deep love for the bitter-sweet yearning of Motor City techno, his tracks transcend trends. Over his three-decade spanning career he has refined his blend of soul-infused dance music to striking effect. His gift for a catchy hook is unmatched. His new studio album "The Mental Bandwidth" shows his musical range as a producer once again. On the album's twelve tracks, he effortlessly traverses, cosmic house, funkified techno and electronica, combining his trademark quirky melodies with playful songwriting and dance floor focused beats. The album format is giving Lig enough space to explore his musical ideas from different directions while staying true to the overall atmosphere. "The idea for the album was to go back to the fundamentals of the original Detroit sound and to find new ways of expressing that soul in my music - as I've been doing for years", explains Lig. With Ann Saunderson and the former Kraftwerk-member Wolfgang Flur, the album features two heavy-weight collaborations that connect the "The Mental Bandwidth" to Detroit's musical legacy, too. Slikk Tim aka Garry Grittness also has a cameo in the form of a funky bassline on "Healing", the pop-infused Ann Saunderson collaboration. The title of the album is inspired by Lig's lecture of Sendhil Mullainathan and Eldar Shafir book "Scarcity: Why Having So Little Means So Much" which explores new approaches to reduce poverty. "The authors discovered that the mental bandwidth of poor people is sometimes really low because of short term issues they are facing and are forced to solve", explains Lig. Those issues are reducing the mental bandwidth for long term thinking capacities, which in turn has consequences for the decision making process. An example: before the quality of education of poor kids is increased, the quality of life they have must be increased. This increases the capacities of the kids to learn more than solely better educational programs.

Kids Return is first and foremost a great story of friendship since childhood between Adrien Rozé and Clément Savoye . It is between their small Parisian studio and a house suspended between the mountains of the Pyrenees that their pieces are born, then orchestrated by a string quartet in the countryside. From this trip was born a dreamlike and sensory music, a call to dream. Music that takes root out of time.

Forever Melodies is Kids Return's first album, it follows their first four singles, released between 2021 and today (Melody, Our Love, Orange Mountains, Forever). This album is ten skilfully refined pop tracks (“Some bands tell you 'We made 35 songs to keep 8', we made 10 songs to keep 10”) imbued with nostalgia, with an astonishing sincerity (breakups, stories of friendships, love, physical anguish, the transition to adulthood), a boundless love for dressing melodies. This album was orchestrated as a wonderful intimate journey, in space and time: the film of their lives.

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.

Repress incoming...

Far Out Recordings proudly presents Milton Nascimento's Maria Maria. Recorded in 1974 and unreleased until almost thirty years later, the album was written as the soundtrack to a ballet which dealt with the legacy of slavery in Brazil. Raw, atmospheric and emotionally charged, Maria Maria reveals one of Brazil's greatest ever songwriters at his creative peak. Featuring an all-star cast of fellow Brazilian legends including Nana Vasconcelos, Joao Donato, Paulinho Jobim, and members of Som Imaginario, Maria Maria holds what Milton considers to be the definitive versions of some of his classic songs, including 'Os Escravos De Jó' and 'Maria Maria'.

Originally released in 2003 as a double CD package, with Milton Nascimento's 1984 follow up ballet soundtrack Ultimo Trem, Maria Maria will be available on vinyl for the very first time from December 2019, with Ultimo Trem set for vinyl release early 2020.

Milton Nascimento possesses one of the most immediately recognizable voices in Brazilian music: high and sweet and as breathtakingly sublime as that of any soul singer. It was this voice that the legendary Brazilian singer Elis Regina fell in love with back in 1964, having heard Milton perform his song 'Canção do Sal (Sultry Song)' at a private party in Sao Paulo. Ellis went on to record the song in 1967 -giving Milton his first hit in Brazil and beginning a career that has spanned over 50 years.

Born in Rio on the 26th October 1942, Milton moved with his adoptive parents at the age of 18 months to Tres Pontas, a rural town in the state of Minas Gerais, 500 miles north of Rio. He began his musical career as a young teenager, singing in a crooner style he learnt from listening to Brazilian singers and US groups such as The Platters on the radio. Hungry for more opportunities to perform, Milton moved to Belo Horizonte, the capital of Minas Gerais, at the age of twenty. By the beginning of the 60s Milton had made a name for himself both as an accomplished singer and guitarist.

Milton became part of a local network of musicians, film makers, dancers, theatre directors and writers that included the journalist and song writer Fernando Brant as well as lyricist Marcio Borges and his younger brother Lo Borges. Together these four wrote and produced what would become Milton's milestone album, 'Clube da Esquina (Club on the Corner)'. The originality of 'Club da Esquina' shaped the local scene, and it reflects the essence of 'the Nascimento Sound'. Milton's religious upbringing as an Afro-Brazilian Catholic saw him exposed to church choral music from an early age. His love of this genre of music is apparent in both his celestial falsetto and vocal choral arrangements. This collection also displays his early fascination with evocative, non-verbal, scat-style singing, spare, harmonic guitar work and local folk music, jazz and rock.

In 1976, Milton and Fernando Brant teamed up with a new contemporary dance company called Grupo Corpo, whose Argentinian choreographer Oscar Araiz, would become a collaborator with the two musicians. Together, they conceived a show based on the composite life story of the daughter of a black slave called Maria. Nascimento wrote music to Brant's lyrics and "Maria Maria" was premiered in the main theatre of the Belo Horizonte Palacio das Artes that year. "Fernando wrote the lyrics for the ballet, but there were originally no lyrics for the theme song, "Maria Maria'". Milton and Fernando worked on the lyrics together, basing them on folk stories about black women of the countryside. Adds Milton "These memories are mostly things that we witnessed – Fernando and I – rather than what we experienced ourselves.

Milton's music is impressionistic, emotional and romantic. Relying on songs without lyrics as well as evocative vocalizing and choruses, Milton experimented heavily with Afro-Brazilian percussion and taped jungle sounds. His composing method for these recordings was highly unconventional: "I wrote the music for 'Maria Maria' in a tiny Rio apartment with friends and their kids running around and having fun! I love to be in noisy places, surrounded by people", he says.
The music on 'Maria Maria' was performed by an impressive group of young musicians who are today household names in Brazilian music, including Naná Vasconcelos (percussion and effects), Toninho Horta (guitars) and Paulo Moura (sax). Several vocalist including Naná Caymmi, Fafá de Belém, Beto Guedes, and Milton himself, had hits in years to come with reworkings of these songs.

Milton says his compositions follow his visions "like a movie", and he believes that reflects his long love affair with cinema. "I only began composing because of enjoying the movies so much," he says. "I wrote my first song "Peace for the Coming Love" after seeing 'Jules et Jim' (the cult 60s French film directed by François Truffaut), with my friend Marcio Borges. We went early in the morning and watched it four or five times in a row, then went to Márcio's home and wrote the song."

The songs also include solo spoken passages set to music, clearly influenced by this style of French art cinema. On the title track, Maria's story is narrated and translated to music through the use of African Percussion, drums and metal signifying the field slave tools of the day. 'Trabalhos (Works)' runs to work rhythms and whipcracks: no words, just pain. 'Lília' documents the beating of the slave woman. After 'A Chamada (The call)' and the triumphant 'Era Rei e Sou Escravo (I was a king now I am a slave' things begin to turn and Milton employs tropical jungle cries to symbolize freedom. 'Santos Catholicos x Candomble (Catholic Saints vs Candomble)' represents the battle between African and European religions through the music of both sides. Milton's heavenly falsetto pours into 'Francisco' and 'Pai Grande (Great Father)' and the outstanding 'Eu Sou Uma Preta Velha Aqui Sentada no Sol (I'm an old black lady, sitting under the sun)' conjures images of an old woman sitting deep in the forest, her memories painted in drums, piano and voices.

The Vinyl Chill collection is back with a new voule dedicated to House Music. Relax & chill down in a cosy atmosphere with a fine selection of really cool tracks by Kid Francescoli, Somechords or Üm...

A cold wind blows while a disembodied drum marches in distance, diving slowly into an orchestra warm-up that ends with a bang: Marmo Music welcomes back Massimo Pegoraro, aka Modus, this time with a special tape release that carries genuinely shaped musical fantasies by the enigmatic electronic music composer and DJ from Genova. Each tune brings a new shade of his polychrome musical universe. He wrote a library music leaning ode to Moondog, recalls forgotten WW1 battles with longing choirs’ chanting along a minimal droning dream house Cello tone, and drops a melancholic fairytale that pits footage of kids laughing at a street market against Fellini-Score spinet melodies. Three of 14 mesmerizing, profoundly written pieces of music, that tell multi-layered contes with Synth reverberations, jazz ambiances, experimental Brit pop sonics, and a sundry range of field recordings. Together they build an enthralling story arc, that displays the open-minded spheres of the broad musical cosmos of Modus. To open the doors to his universe extensive, he additionally wrote some author’s notes for each single composition, that evoke vibrant images on his inspirations and their sounding outcome. Check the spell below while listening to intensely produced explorer music, that brings you obscure ideas from afar who express all the many subtle spirits of Modus.

Neutrals return with a stunning new 4 track EP on Static Shock, after an album on Emotional Response in 2019 and two 7”s on Slumberland and Domestic Departure in 2020. Each song on this EP is a golden nugget of DIY Indie pop with clean and jagged guitar work, tunes at every corner and a joyous naivety. Go straight to Gary Borthwick Says - a song about a full time bullshitter with lyrics akin to I, Ludicrous’ Preposterous Tales with music which has the charm of prime The Television Personalties and The Times. New Town Dream is another gem and if it had come out in 1979 as an obscure DIY / Post Punk 7", the kids would be paying £200 for it. Honestly, it’s love at first listen and pure infatuation after repeated plays. This EP will not leave you turntable. The 7" is limited to 550 copies on blue vinyl and housed in wraparound sleeve.

In the vast musical archive that is Roman Flügel’s discography, Ro70 holds a special place. Written, performed and produced between January and July 1995, it is his debut album as a full-fledged solo artist. Enquired and inspired by a certain David Moufang from Heidelberg, who used to share a classroom with Jörn Elling Wuttke at the SAE Institute and revealed himself to be an Acid Jesus fan and also of the Roman IV 12“ project, it seemed like a good fit for his (and Jonas Grossmann’s) Source Records label.
In the days before file sharing that meant going back and forth with various DATs in his mom’s Volkswagen Polo Fox for actual listening sessions between Darmstadt and Heidelberg. The time was as special and idiosyncratic one as was the sound of Source Records and of course Ro 70 itself. While the rave-olution was ready to eat its kids with the commercial outlook of former underground phenomena looked bright and the scene’s prophecy seemed grim, enterprises like Source and artist like Roman Flügel were defying any competition out of those corners with their own means.
Listening back to the ten tracks of Ro 70, it proves them, their taste and artistic vision right. Probably still being put into the ambient, downtempo, electronica or chill out sections of most record shops, this music could have been made, relished and cherished anytime between 1995 and now. Made in Roman’s home studio in his parent’s house or in the Klangfabrik studio in Egelsbach, this was made for before or after the rave – or for people who din’t want to have to do anything with it at all. His signature is all over it. Well balanced soundscapes with an almost uncanny presence and clarity. Bittersweet symphonies that doesn’t seem to be in an inferior position to modern classical or electronic studies.
It is also a very personal testament to a time in the artists’s life that was ready to get caught in the maelstrom of the oscillating techno city called Frankfurt am Main and its halcyon days between the Delirium record shop, Sven Väth’s marathon sets, the early days of the label triumvirate Playhouse, Klang & Ongaku. In a musical journal without lyrics, those memories will have to stay pantomimic and private. All for the better, that we can at least still listen to them.

Breaking News! DJs Pareja and Matias Aguayo have joined to form the dance project MDM Factory!

Modern transcendental Techno music for those who know, and those who want to learn!

In a turmoil of events nightlife would change forever, and confined to their respective places - A flat in Buenos Aires and a house in the jungle Diego Irasusta, Mariano Caloso and Matias Aguayo joined forces to create new communication on distance via music.

Taking all their dance floor knowledge and dreaming of sound systems and togetherness in a better future, DJs Pareja & Aguayo put their minds, bodies and souls to work on this stunning EP that will please the forward thinking underground freaks as well as the big room techno pros.

Let’s dive into this divine mess of glorious dance floor jams from the future...

A1. Curvas Peligrosas

With the first track it becomes clear what this is all about: Wobbly metamorphous sounds from outer space jamming with stomping and bass driven techno beats of tomorrow, a new kind of rave, hypnotic and seductive, utterly strange but wonderfully catchy and contagious in a good sense, harsh shuffled hiatus and alternating kick drums, a relentless bassline and sophisticated electronic sounds in a a permanent evolution resembling and invoking altered states of consciousness.


A2. Love Boat

This new rave anthem seems like a classic you haven’t heard about. Muscle memories from dancefloor days trigger your body as you listen on your headphones, awaiting the chance to play it out soon, hopefully, as the dance floors slowly reopen. Alternating between parts of kickdrum, clap and snare awesomeness, and the mangled rave signals that slowly morph into a more concrete melody reminiscent of ancient dreams of the future, this track has it all for the club kids of today.

B1. La Vida Loca
The title track is a tech banger that will please those who dig Kenny Larkin, Claude Young, The Surgeon, Dave Clark or any other star in the nocturnal sky of Techno Techno, as well as the lovers of DJs Pareja’s classic Cómeme Clubbangers, or the more Techno side of Mr. Aguayo. Definitely has the potential to become a huge hit if enough djs that don’t rely on algorithms get their hands on it


B2. Las Llaves

The closer is hyper modern tech funk at its best. Percussive greatness as you can find it on many Cómeme releases is triggered in a different way, “sabroso” rhythms that are played in the light and purposeful way of an elegant jazz drummer, pave the way for an always evolving psychedelic lead synth sound, that will be a useful tool for the dj who knows when to keep the groove, prolonging those magic times between the risings...

2023 Repress

Life At Robert Johnson is a natural home for Superpitcher, and this two tracker shows his sense of belonging.

Lush Life featuring vocals by Fantastic Twins was inspired by Corsican polyphony, an epiphany after a church concert though as ever with Superpitcher, simplicity is multi-layered: the track itself could be a trip back to the golden (rave) days of deep electronic US house à la François K, dubby yet peacefully driving the ecstasy home. No religious gospel euphoria though, the lyrics are a pagan hymn to Eventide presets. You can’t take the geek out of the schatzi.

Diario stretches its 10 minutes in a misleading laidback groove: Sueno Latino languid clichés are blown away by a smoothly unforgiving acid line. This is a trip, not a journey, a trip dedicated to the young raver in all of us and to a friend too soon departed. As Pasolini said in the poem of the same name: “That’s why I've never abandoned happiness, that’s why in the anxiety of my sins I’ve never been touched by real remorse. Equal, always equal, to the inexpressible at the very source of what I am”

In other words, kids, keep faith out there.

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


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


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

Since the inception of Anxious in 2016, the band has always acted with purpose. This may seem like a simple premise, but for five kids still in high school at the time, it’s quite an accomplishment. Early songs were packaged in limited run demo tapes with accompanying zines and hand-dyed t-shirts. Weekends were filled with regional runs of shows outside of their Fairfield, Connecticut homebase. With this amount of effort it’s no wonder that within a few years of graduation, Anxious has built a solid foundation for their debut album to flourish upon.

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

Spoken word recordings from Gregory Corso, Tina May Hall, Sam Lipsyte, Christine Schutt, Gary Lutz, Allen Ginsberg, Dawn Raffel, Jason Schwartz, Kathryn Scanlan, Scott McClanahan, & Terry Southern. About 40 years ago, in a record shop on Long Island during a weekend visit there to see my parents, i found a double-LP that looked like something i should definitely buy. It was called "BIG EGO", by the The DIAL-a-POEM POETS. On the cover was a picture of John Giorno (a great poet Ed Sanders had turned me on to) on a NYC rooftop with Philip Glass, Meredith Monk, and two kids. It cost $2. I bought it and rushed back to my parents house, where i still had my old turntable in the basement, not far from my Jimi Hendrix and Zappa Crappa posters, and my framed portrait of John Cage. My copy of Eno's "Discreet Music" was still on the turntable, having been left there years before, when i'd fled Long Island for good. I lifted it from the platter, gently slid it back into its sleeve, like a priceless religious artifact, and put Side A of the Dial-a-Poem LP on. I almost lost my mind while listening to it. The next day i went back to the same record shop looking for more DIAL-A-POEM LP's. i found two. One had a long list of names on the back, some famous, and some i'd never heard of before. I bought both LP's, and an hour later, for the first time in my life, i was exposed to the art of Laurie Anderson, whom i'd never heard of before. This was 1978. Her contribution was a piece called "Time To Go". It changed my life. Or at least, that’s how I remember it. I was just a kid, so there were a lot of moments like that, around then. Nowadays, these moments can be had in seconds, with a click of the cursor. That evening, as i sat alone by my imaginary campfire (ie; that record player in my parents basement), i promised myself that someday, somehow, i would embark upon a WORDS & MUSIC project that might move people the same way i was moved when i first heard Laurie, and Robert Wilson & Christopher Knowles, and Burroughs, and Ginsberg, and Corso, and Anne Waldman, and John Ashbery, and the great Charles Olson, and so many others. Words, for the very first time, had wielded the same power as music. And it was visceral. Just like music. It ran deep. It was a FEELING. John Giorno died in 2019, but he kept poetry alive like nobody's business. I was lucky enough to have spent some time with him in the early 1980's, when i was briefly a member of The Fugs, and often found myself surrounded by those Ginsberg called, "...the greatest minds of my generation". Ed Sanders (who'd ushered me into that scene) once told me that when he came to NYC, it was easy to go to a cafe, or to St Marks Church, and hear Burroughs, Corso, Ginsberg, and all the greats, reading their poetry. He said that even if you were just a bum on the street, you could just walk right up to them, and start a conversation. They were totally accessible, if they were in the right mood at that particular moment. So i was shocked when Sanders told me he didn't approach any of them, not even once, til he'd been going to their readings for nearly ten years. "For almost a decade, I went to every reading, every lecture, every panel discussion. But I never went near them. Never approached them. Not even once", Sanders told me. "For ten years, all I did, was listen." It took me four decades, but ... better late than never. I finally made WORDS & MUSIC, Book One.

Working his mellow magic on the Growing Bin, Sorcerer entertains your inner child with eight tracks of instrumental west coast pop suitable for dancing, dreaming and surfing a wave or two.
While Basso sat in a Teutonic treehouse, feeding his head with the sounds of the woodland, Dan Judd danced on the sands of San Francisco's Baker Beach. Stretching between them, like the world's longest tin can radio, was the Dream Chimney. This legendary forum, run by Ryan Bishop, better known as The Beat Broker, helped to launch a thousand labels, and the Growing Bin is one of them - all hail the Chim!
Here, Dan, naturally mystic in his Sorcerer guise, satisfies all our sensory needs with a Kinder Surprise of sweet melodies, coastal cool and playful rhythms inspired by his children's earliest responses to music. Following his feelings and avoiding overthinking, he creates open, enticing and accessible cuts; each living and breathing that mellow magic you only get on the West Coast.
'Kids World' kicks into gear with the spheric bass of '2000 Studio', a bouncy embodiment of that spacious San Francisco sound. There's a nod to nu disco but the dreamy dubiness takes the track much deeper, especially as those surf guitars start to detune in the summer heat. The breezy fretwork continues on 'Disco Drums', topping a wriggling groove tailor made for the terrace. Shades of rave refract through a healing crystal at the midpoint, encouraging al fresco dancing from sunrise to sunset. The A3 sees Sorcerer get into the groove of 'Bahia Brothers', rolling that rubberised B-line out of his own Paradise Garage before putting the top down for the carefree Balearic pop of 'Spray Paint.'
The B-side glides into being via the night dubbing grooves of 'Fire Feel', a reverb laden journey though glassy tones, off beat perx and gorgeous chord progressions. Next up, the new wave inspired 'Crunchy' translates Sheffield's daring synth pop into a wide eyed blast of psychedelic house, boosting our mana ahead of the loose limbed and light footed 'First Wave'. Ringing guitars reference Ghanaian highlife, shimmering in the heat haze as Dan funks up the drum kit ready for the broken beat and blissed out energy of sundowning set closer 'Escape Route'.

Bouquet Records features Olive T. for their sixth EP release on vinyl to infuse their 2021 roster with the desired verve and energy that dormant club kids are thirsting for.

Releasing in early summer, the energetic dance tracks herald a return to the dance floor, uplifted by soul-stirring synthesiser orchestral strings.
The native New Yorker and scene fixture was influenced by 90's house, inspired by Raze, Deee-lite, Green Velvet, and smooth disco flows.
The ascension sensation of 'Goin' Up' builds on familiar house grooves with digital synths and a thoughtful utilisation of today's technology.

Known to play a range spanning hip hop to club, jazz to funk, disco to garage, and more, Olive T has DJ'd countless venues and over international airwaves.
An early exposure to house and techno, combined with a wide span of diverse musical taste, shaped her unique style. In 2020 she started her own 2 hour radio show on The Lot Radio.

Olive T worked with Tiro! due to her admiration of his use of traditional sounds of the 90's era, sensing he also listened prolifically to 90's house and techno. Tiro!'s remix of 'This Is A Bop' adds organic flare to the original.
A long-time fan of Matt Karmil, she invited him to remix 'Opaque' - He flips the track upside down to reveal a different, but still vibrant interpretation, with his technical approach to remixing.

Olive T has released singles and remixes on Nervous records, 2MR, and on her own. The four track record 'Goin' Up' marks Olive T's first label-released EP, and first release on San Diego-based Bouquet Records.

Clint Mansell and Clint Walsh’s reimagining of Lou
Reed’s 1973 album ‘Berlin’ as a tribute to
Mansell’s late partner Heather who passed away
in 2014. Now available on vinyl.
Pressed on neon pink vinyl and housed in a deluxe
spined sleeve with spot varnish polaroid image.
The record itself comes housed in a double sided
printed inner sleeve with digital download card
included.
Mansell is best known as the former lead singer of
Pop Will Eat Itself and as a composer for films
such as ‘Requiem for a Dream’ and ‘Black Swan’.
Walsh is a multi-instrumentalist and founding
member of Tweaker and is known for his work with
Courtney Love, Gnarls Barkley and many others.
Mansell and Walsh worked previously together on
the score for ‘Black Mirror’ episode ‘San Junipero’.
“The ‘Berlin’ they've made together isn't a copy in
style, however: instead, it conjures up the sounds
of jangly goth-pop, early ‘90s synth, and classic
singer-songwriter balladry.” - The Quietus

‘Feels’ is Animal Collective’s sixth studio album,
originally released in 2008. The album features all
four band members - Avey Tare, Deakin, Geologist
and Panda Bear.
‘Sung Tongs’ is the band's fifth studio album.
Originally released in 2005, the album features
Avey Tare and Panda Bear.
Both albums available on 140g black double vinyl
in poly inner sleeves and gatefold jackets with
matte UV finish, plus digital download card.

Exclusively on vinyl - 14 defining tracks from the most glamorous indie rock & roll legends.

Kicking off with The Killers ‘Mr Brightside’ and Franz Ferdinand’s ’Take Me Out’ - both huge anthems from the post-punk revival of the early 2000’s - a genre that took inspiration from the distorted rock scene of the late ’60s alongside the guitar & synth driven new wave of the early ’80s and produced some of the most creative and bruised tracks of the past twenty years. Some acts found mainstream appeal and delivered huge radio and chart friendly pop - The Bravery, Razorlight and Kasabian (represented here with ‘Club Foot’ which sounds as fresh today as it did when it was released).



The scene gave rise to bands whose growing fanbases could easily identify with them, not only for the music, but also the look and attitude. From New York, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and The Rapture are included here and from the West Coast, Dandy Warhols hit big with ‘Bohemian Like You’ and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club who scored a Top 5 album with their debut release. With particular emphasis on captivating live shows and an alignment to grittier rock aesthetics, The Vines, The Hives, The Libertines and The Fratellis all represented different elements of Indie Glam, while MGMT delivered one of the greatest debut albums of the period by melding Indie Pop with synth-driven psychedelia which included the incredible cut ‘Kids’, also featured here.



14 Essential Tracks on one vinyl album - ‘Glamorous Indie Rock And Roll’

The iconic album series Back to Mine returns once again in 2019 with the first DJ imx compilation from world dominating indie-dance band Jungle, showcasing their personal tastes for the after-hours. The series was renowned for its eclectic selection and selectors which includes some of the biggest names in electronic and pop music, from the likes of Faithless to Pet Shop Boys, Groove Armada to New Order.

Building on Back to Mine’s heritage for quality this edition comes with limited edition heavyweight vinyl and extra thick cardboard sleeves with full coloured bespoke artwork, commissioned from illustrator Rich Fairhead, depicting the artist’s influences alongside personal sleeve notes from Jungle.

The collection includes an exclusive track from Jungle themselves and takes the listener on an eclectic musical journey. From 90s disco by Merle to more recent house tracks by Manuel Darquart and Drumtalk. Bristol DJ Admin provides the percussion heavy ‘Space Cadet’ and the irrepressible Mocky supplies good vibes on ‘How It Goes’. There’s sophisticated pop from The Marias and Sam Evian and there’s some spotlight for modern jazz with tracks by Kamaal Williams, Mansur Brown and BadBadNotGood featuring Kaytranada. There’s also room for some gospel influenced soul by The Flying Stars of Brooklyn NY, lo-fi dream pop from Paul Cherry before ending with the always impressive HNNY.

To coincide with the series release, Jungle will embark on an extensive Back to Mine global DJ tour.

After three years of waiting since her seminal Sister funk hit single "2 Kinds Of Men", Record Kicks finally presents "Stop Look Listen" the debut album from the new Oporto soul diva Marta Ren & The Groovelvets that will hit the streets 19 February 2016. Anticipated from the first single "I'm Not A Regular Woman", which is getting airwaves all over Europe (including BBC 6, Rai Radio 1, LeMouv / Radio France), produced and recorded on an Ampex eight-track tape machine by New Max from Portuguese funk combo Expensive Soul and mastered in NYC by Andy Vandette, "Stop Look Listen" is pure dynamite and follows the best tradition of the Soul Sisters of the 60s. Marta Ren, not surprisingly described as the new Marva Whitney, brilliantly supported by her super tight 8-piece rhythm & soul combo The Groovelvets, serves you 11 tracks of pure fire and takes-no-prisoners. From the floorshakin' opening track "Don't Look" to the mellow feel-good anthems "Smiling Faces", "So Long" and the afrotastic "Be Ma Fela", the Portuguese combo deliver a visceral deep funk album, proving that they're the new 'real deal'.

Marta Ren is not a newcomer as she has been around in the Portuguese scene since the mid 90s lending her deep and powerful voice, amongst others, to break-beat outfit The Bombazines, recording two albums and establishing her unique talent at clubs and festivals all around Portugal. But Marta's passion has always been for the deepest funk and rawest soul of the sixties, and now the time has come for her to show the world her immense talent. With a powerful voice that would make the founding soul sisters proud, Marta Ren is looking to rule the world and make herself a household name. Fans of Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings get on it!

'IDMEMO' would not pretend to be a representative compendium of 90’s-00’s Intelligent Dance Music. It was not Vladimir Ivkovic & Ivan Smagghe’s point when they decided on the project. It is a very personal snapshot of a moment in time, when both of them were working in record shops, when they were listening to indie and electronic music. One can not stress enough the importance of this crossing of roads, pop kids getting through to the dancefloor via Aphex Twin and nerdy house heads dissolving their four to the floor into the futuristic world of Warp compilations.

The compilation unfolds in the loosest, the best way to make some kind of sense. There are some classics (Black Dog’s lysergic 'Psyl-Cosin'), there are some rarities (that Zugzwang track), some tested late night floor melters (Reload remixing Slowdive) and some personal outlandish choices that strangely take their place (Spiritualized’s 'Anyway That You want Me-remix 3').

All in all, This is an anti-archive, a choice of tracks primarily lead by emotion, more pads than glitches,”intelligent” music depraved by that last half-pill at 6am rather than high-brow destructurations, Ivkovic & Smagghe hitting, as ever, at their own margins.

'IDMEMO' is a collaborative project between Above Board Projects, Offen Music and Les Disques De La Mort. Selected and sequenced by Vladimir Ivkovic and Ivan Smagghe. Art and design by Atelier Superplus. Mastering courtesy of Keith Tenniswood @ Curved. Manufacture and worldwide distribution by Above Board, 2020.

At last, a vinyl re-press of the hard-to-find Classic New Beat tracks from N9 !

For years, the vinyl 12 inches from the French Techno-house & New Beat label N9 were nearly impossible to find, and devoted Oldschool Fans kept asking for represses.
Thanks to a joint venture with fellow Belgian label Fenix Fire Records, the wait is over!

Here’s a deluxe 2x12' compilation, on 180g marbled red vinyl in a beautiful gatefold package.

With 11 tracks spanning from the origins in 1990 to the rebirth since 2005, N9's most wanted releases are here, remastered by French sonic wizard André Dalcan, ready to get turntables at the right 33+8 mood, and get the white glove raised again!

2X12" repressed !

Welcome to - Industrie & Zärtlichkeit , the raw, quirky yet emotional debut album from Moon! Although the Berlin-based duo is revered for dancefloor bangers such as - Ze power', Johannes Albert and Johannes Paluka (better known as Iron Curtis) have put much effort into making this album a true listening experience without sacrificing their roots in House Music. - Industrie & Zärtlichkeit (which translates into - Industry & Tenderness ) effortlessly achieves what is claimed in its title, namely a fusion of seemingly disparate elements: the rough and the smooth, dirty beats and soothing harmonies, bizarre sounds and comforting chords. The title track is a fine example of this perfectly-dosed blend with its detuned strings that glide over a crisp electro beat and an infectious melody which would make Kraftwerk proud. Cafe Del Landwehrkanal' is a lighthearted and kinky gem while - Light Of Virtue combines warm synth pads (Detroit is not far) with dusty drums and an acid bassline. MFB Nights' and Machine Rhythm Tomorrow' are also illustrations of the duo's undeniable savoir-faire, with the former celebrating garage classics thanks to its cheeky vocal sample and gorgeous rhodes chords while the latter plays out as a dedication to the early 90's, a time when people didn't care about genres and just dived in the novelty of electronic dance music.
But as we all know, there is a dark and secret side of the Moon, an aspect which is best expressed via the freaky organ chords of - Proto and its detuned melody. Not to mention the excellent ambient pieces - Fjordig or - The Bitter End which showcase the duo's ability to venture into uncharted territory.
All in all, Industrie & Zärtlichkeit feels like drinking fresh orange juice gently sparkled with chilli... and it concludes flawlessly with two reworks that prolong the album's laidback yet assured vibe. First off is Black Spuma (Lauer of Tuff City Kids fame and Italian disco legend Fabrizio Mammarella) who rework the title track into a hands-in-the-air boogie monster that will definitely be a festival staple this summer. Finally, Lerosa emphasizes the deeper shade of the album's spectrum with an impressive new wave rework of - Appeal .

Catz 'n Dogz are back with album 'Moments'. Written and recorded in the midst of this crisis. Twelve tracks form the backbone to this wide-spanning sonic journey that document the highs and lows of this time. Drawn out of their comfort zone, it's safe to say this shift in their creative paradigm resonates throughout 'Moments'. Inviting you to gaze deeper inside, the album floats in a haze of dreaminess and cottony serenity. Though seemingly simple, the track titles point at themes more complex and universal that will strike a chord with every soul.

Traversed by a vaporous jazz vibe and highlighting an obvious lean towards laid-back atmospheres, 'Moments' effortlessly alternates between. Lo slung house 'Sunrise' features James Yuill, the heavy-lidded, funky bass-heavy 'Memories' and the rolling brass anthem 'Time', in collaboration with Jaw - and more doped up trip-hop-ness. 'Life', the slo-mo chugger that will get the feels on alert, the chillax of 'Nothing' and 'Love,' and the luscious 'Moment' feat. Angelika Nowak, a sample-heavy, soul jam whose naive charm will prove hard to resist, even for the stonehearted.

Catz 'n Dogz explore inwards the heart's non-spoken spheres, where the pop-infused hip-hop 'Meditate' introduces Heather Chelan. A more personal affair 'Listen' makes for a playful interlude. 'It's OK' invites you to let go of the shame at shedding tears, a memorable cut with its joyful whistling, elated guitar riffs and rousing bass.

To close off this sonic micro-odyssey, 'Tomorrow' casts a spell of positiveness. With blazing synth lines and robotised talk, unfolds an anthem for tomorrow's world. One where music holds the crucial place it's always had. So be the kids' dreams, the person they want to be in the future. Be Batman, be a firefighter, be a rock star.

In the late-1970s Athens, Georgia was buzzing with a raw but sophisticated music scene. Traditional Southern rock had been the Georgia musical export for years before but the turn of the decade began producing new sounds from bands like the B-52’s, REM and Alt Rock luminaires Pylon.
 Before they were a band, Pylon were art-school students at the University of Georgia: four kids invigorated by big ideas about art and creativity and society. However, Pylon were less of a band and more of an art project, which meant they had very specific goals in mind, as well as an expiration date.
 While their time together as a band was short lived (1979-1983), Pylon had a lasting influence on the history of rock and roll. Throughout their brief history, they were able to create influential work that would help foster the post-punk and art-rock scene of the early 80s. Artists like R.E.M., Gang of Four, Sonic Youth, Sleater-Kinney, Interpol, Deerhunter and many more claim inspiration from the band.
 Their 1979 single ‘Cool’ / ‘Dub’ reached legendary status, with Rolling Stone titling it one of the 100 Greatest Debut Singles Of All Time.
 In 1980 the band released their first record, ‘Gyrate’, and began touring across the country in support of the release. The band would soon develop a following across the country and specifically in the bustling music scene in New York City. One of their earliest gigs was opening for the Gang of Four in the Big Apple.
 Following the critical acclaim of their debut release, Pylon went back into the studio. They gleefully pulled their songs apart and put them back together in new shapes, revealing a band of self proclaimed nonmusicians who had transformed gradually but noticeably into real musicians. The resulting album, ‘Chomp’, was barely off the press when Pylon were booked to open a run of dates for a hot new Irish band called U2 (after previously playing two arena shows with them in the month leading to the album release). Most bands would have jumped at the opportunity but Pylon were sceptical. At a critical point in the life of Pylon, they opted to become a cult band rather than stretch their defining philosophy too far.
 “We fully intended Pylon to be an almost seasonal thing that we were gonna do for a minute and then get on with our lives,” says Curtis Crowe, drummer for the band. “But it just never went away. It still doesn’t go away. There’s a new subterranean class of kids that are coming into this kind of music, and they’re just now discovering Pylon. That blows my mind. We didn’t see that coming.”
 New West Records are proud to partner with Pylon to reissue ‘Chomp’ and ‘Gyrate’ back into the masses. Beautifully remastered from the original audio sources and pressed on vinyl (140g) for the first time in over 30 years.
 New West Records also present ‘Pylon Box’, a comprehensive look at the band that features the remastered studio LPs ‘Gyrate’ and ‘Chomp’, the 11-song collection ‘Extra’ - which includes rarities and previously unreleased studio and live recordings - and ‘Razz Tape’, Pylon’s first ever recording: a 13-song unreleased session that pre-dates the band’s seminal ‘Cool’ / ‘Dub’ debut.
 ‘Pylon Box’ also includes a hardbound 200-page full colour book featuring pieces written by the members of R.E.M., Gang of Four, Steve Albini, Corin Tucker and Carrie Brownstein of Sleater-Kinney, Sonic Youth, Interpol, B-52’s, Bradford Cox of Deerhunter, Mission of Burma, Calvin Johnson of Beat Happening and K Records, Anthony DeCurtis, Chris Stamey of the dB’s, Steve Wynn of the Dream Syndicate and many more. Features an extensive essay chronicling the band’s history, with interviews with the surviving members of the band as well as members of R.E.M., B-52’s, Gang of Four, Method Actors and more. It also features never before seen images and artifacts from both the band’s personal archives as well as items now housed at the Special Collections Library at the University of Georgia and the Georgia Museum of Art, UGA.

In the late-1970s Athens, Georgia was buzzing with a raw but sophisticated music scene. Traditional Southern rock had been the Georgia musical export for years before but the turn of the decade began producing new sounds from bands like the B-52’s, REM and Alt Rock luminaires Pylon.
 Before they were a band, Pylon were art-school students at the University of Georgia: four kids invigorated by big ideas about art and creativity and society. However, Pylon were less of a band and more of an art project, which meant they had very specific goals in mind, as well as an expiration date.
 While their time together as a band was short lived (1979-1983), Pylon had a lasting influence on the history of rock and roll. Throughout their brief history, they were able to create influential work that would help foster the post-punk and art-rock scene of the early 80s. Artists like R.E.M., Gang of Four, Sonic Youth, Sleater-Kinney, Interpol, Deerhunter and many more claim inspiration from the band.
 Their 1979 single ‘Cool’ / ‘Dub’ reached legendary status, with Rolling Stone titling it one of the 100 Greatest Debut Singles Of All Time.
 In 1980 the band released their first record, ‘Gyrate’, and began touring across the country in support of the release. The band would soon develop a following across the country and specifically in the bustling music scene in New York City. One of their earliest gigs was opening for the Gang of Four in the Big Apple.
 Following the critical acclaim of their debut release, Pylon went back into the studio. They gleefully pulled their songs apart and put them back together in new shapes, revealing a band of self proclaimed nonmusicians who had transformed gradually but noticeably into real musicians. The resulting album, ‘Chomp’, was barely off the press when Pylon were booked to open a run of dates for a hot new Irish band called U2 (after previously playing two arena shows with them in the month leading to the album release). Most bands would have jumped at the opportunity but Pylon were sceptical. At a critical point in the life of Pylon, they opted to become a cult band rather than stretch their defining philosophy too far.
 “We fully intended Pylon to be an almost seasonal thing that we were gonna do for a minute and then get on with our lives,” says Curtis Crowe, drummer for the band. “But it just never went away. It still doesn’t go away. There’s a new subterranean class of kids that are coming into this kind of music, and they’re just now discovering Pylon. That blows my mind. We didn’t see that coming.”
 New West Records are proud to partner with Pylon to reissue ‘Chomp’ and ‘Gyrate’ back into the masses. Beautifully remastered from the original audio sources and pressed on vinyl (140g) for the first time in over 30 years.
 New West Records also present ‘Pylon Box’, a comprehensive look at the band that features the remastered studio LPs ‘Gyrate’ and ‘Chomp’, the 11-song collection ‘Extra’ - which includes rarities and previously unreleased studio and live recordings - and ‘Razz Tape’, Pylon’s first ever recording: a 13-song unreleased session that pre-dates the band’s seminal ‘Cool’ / ‘Dub’ debut.
 ‘Pylon Box’ also includes a hardbound 200-page full colour book featuring pieces written by the members of R.E.M., Gang of Four, Steve Albini, Corin Tucker and Carrie Brownstein of Sleater-Kinney, Sonic Youth, Interpol, B-52’s, Bradford Cox of Deerhunter, Mission of Burma, Calvin Johnson of Beat Happening and K Records, Anthony DeCurtis, Chris Stamey of the dB’s, Steve Wynn of the Dream Syndicate and many more. Features an extensive essay chronicling the band’s history, with interviews with the surviving members of the band as well as members of R.E.M., B-52’s, Gang of Four, Method Actors and more. It also features never before seen images and artifacts from both the band’s personal archives as well as items now housed at the Special Collections Library at the University of Georgia and the Georgia Museum of Art, UGA.

The Inhale/Exhale posse returns. For our 3 years anniversary and our 10th release we have prepared a super hot double 12 inch pack with shitloads of serious house cutz for your club, bar, living room and ears. With a bunch of love we like to present some common but also fresh faces to the Inhale/Exhale family and this compilation. Be prepared for endless nights full of dance pleasure. Including a wide range of House music from soulful to funky to bigroomesque.

Canyons are places of mystery and beauty. The interesting thing is, while they are one of the great wonders in the history of planet earth and attract scientists of all kinds of disciplines, they have also been a popular retreat for artists and musicians. You will have heard of Topanga Canyon, Rickie Lee Jones and Chicago recorded here. Laurel Canyon is even more well known, a mythical place where Crosby, Stills & Nash developed their unique vocal sound while hanging around Mama Cass' place. Or was it in Joni Mitchell's house on Lookout Mountain? Ok, you get the picture. There is something unexplainable, almost magical going on in canyons.

Maybe that's why Andy Platts and Shawn Lee were thinking of "Canyons" when they wrote and recorded their third album as Young Gun Silver Fox. With "West End Coast" and "AM Waves" these two very talented musicians, singers, songwriters, arrangers and producers already explored all things Westcoast, AOR, Softrock and Boogie. But - especially if you are a into the golden age of this sound running from circa 1976 to 1984 - you will be aware that there is no return once you started digging these unconditional musical delights with their timeless compositions, untouchable musicianship and refined arrangements. The great albums from that era appeared when punk broke and the musical establishment was shaken to the ground. Today they sound more up to date than ever. Who would have thought back then?

On "Canyons" Young Gun Silver Fox turned it up to eleven. They are nothing but "Kids" cruising in the fast lane, totally over the top searching for the "Dream Woman", touching down in Tokyo caught in a "Long Distance Love Affair", imagining the theme for a lost 70s TV series starring "Danny Jamaica", being on the winning side in a "Private Paradise", getting deep and soulful in "Things We Left Unsaid" and wondering how to spread "All This Love". Their bass lines, sound layers, brass arrangements and harmony vocals are immaculate. Everything fits perfectly. Just like this. "Who Needs Words" when everything is crystal clear? Exactly!

"Canyons", after all, are magical places of rare beauty. (Mr. Mellow - Porcaroc Club/Mr. Mellow's Sunday Scene/Soho Radio).

Changes, always changes! That is the path than an artist travels in his musical career. But road always as a goal. And Jesus Gonsev gives us one of them in his first album as an artist. Eight tracks for enjoy this long tour and see his influences on it. An album where different styles are played, Deep House, Breaks, Electro, Techno. But harmoniously converge with that characteristic Gonsev's touch. Now is the time to start this journey by placing the needle on the vinyl. Do you want to change your life? A new life...