Buscar:just cris

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Bárbara Salazar aka Barbarelle is an experimental multidisciplinary artist from Buenos Aires, known for her conceptual work as a DJ, creative director, and curator.

‘Celesta’ marks Barbarelle first foray into composing and producing her own music; a debut that reveals the intimate, heartfelt territories of her creative universe. The culmination of years of composing for herself - ‘behind closed doors’ - ‘Celesta’ is a deeply personal, self-guided masterstroke of beguiling, free-flowing ambient soundscapes and DIY electronics. With ‘Celesta’, Barbarelle artfully transitions from ardent music aficionado to fully-fledged artist, unveiling an enchanting sonic world that has quietly matured over time.

‘Celesta’ is an exquisite odyssey of sound, assembled from fifteen tracks recorded between 2022 and 2024 in Buenos Aires and Los Angeles. Conceived as spontaneous and intuitive explorations, many of these tracks were recorded in one take without technically-minded premeditation. The product of organic experimentation rather than concrete intention, ‘Celesta’ is an authentic, candid record of emotions, memories, and profound interiorities.

Over time, the pieces in this tapestry found a common thread: a conversation with the ethereal, defined by emotional intensities and softly spoken utterances. ‘Celesta’ is an invitation to immerse yourself in soundscapes that merge to the point of dissolution, evoking the transparency of water and the lightness of a dreamlike world that transcends matter. Like the song of a siren, the voice becomes just another instrument, beyond language yet full of significance. A collection of songs that feels like opening a secret diary; a direct pathway to the centre of the heart.

In addition to her work as an artist, Barbarelle is the founder of Atlas, a platform dedicated to active listening through radio, live performances, listening sessions and more. She is also known for her radio show of the same name on Dublab, where she shares her unique approach to sound with eclectic selections and interviews with the likes of Air, BADBADNOTGOOD, Lucrecia Dalt, Juana Molina & more.

Carrying the torch of psychedelic cumbia, with a healthy dose
of surf guitar and Amazonian dancefloor flourishes from Peru
and Brazil alike, Fiesta en la Jungla by Los Dexter’s de Uchiza
is the first release from the newly formed London-label Ritmo
del Barrio. Originally released in 1982, it captures the finest
cumbia being made in Peru at the time, decked out with
frenetic surf-rock guitar riffs, rhythms floating on crisp
cumbia percussion and occasionally punctuated by carimbó
breakdowns native to the Pará region of north-eastern Brazil.
The album is filled with energy, a gem that was always
intended to animate any dancefloor. Peruvian cumbia came to national attention in the late 60s
through the recordings of Juaneco y su Combo, Los Destellos
and Los Wembler’s de Iquitos, but it’s had many revivals, and
Fiesta en la Jungla arrived when the style was going through a
major transition. In 1977, a passenger plane carrying most of
the members of Juaneco y su Combo crashed, killing everyone
on board. In 1980, Los Destellos retired, and Los Wembler’s
released their tenth and final record, they were ready for a
break. This left a big void in Peruvian music. Wasting no time,
Los Dexter’s Emerson Ruiz Mosquera took the opportunity and
gave his band new life, filling the band’s ranks with young and
energetic musicians who were hungry for success. He built the
new band around a solid base of dexterous guitars, a dynamite
rhythm section, and added oodles of percussion and an electric
organ, giving them a powerful psychedelic sound that called
back to the sounds of the original chichamasters, but added a
new sheen. Along with bands like Los Shapis and Los Walkers
de Huánuco, Peruvian cumbia was reborn as chicha in the
1980s, and was now the sound of Peru’s barrios up and down
the country.
Based in the city of Uchiza, on the edges of the Amazon basin,
Los Dexter’s were uniquely located in central Peru, closer to the
largest urban centres of the country than Amazonian outposts
like Pucallpa or Iquitos, and therefore better positioned to
travel to the furthest reaches of the country with ease. In a
sense, Los Dexter’s were a bridge between the Amazon and the
rest of Peru, a bridge over which the sounds of Amazonian
cumbia could travel to the rest of the country on their way to
becoming one of the most ubiquitous elements of Peru’s musical
identity. Fiesta en la Jungla represents Los Dexter’s in their third
iteration. Led by Emerson Ruiz Mosquera, who was just a
young boy in 1970 when his older brother founded the group
with four of his friends, the ensemble by the time of Fiesta en la
Jungla included Orlando Abad on the timbales and lead vocals,
Lucho Bendezú on lead guitar, Javier Quiroz as second
guitarist, Alejandro Almeira on bass, Rufino Bustamante on
keyboard, Ramon Siu on bongos and bells, Ivan Rios on conga,
and Emerson as musical director and composer. Remarkably,
most of the group’s members helped to write at least one
track, Los Dexter’s were a collective endeavour.
Reissued on vinyl for the first time by Ritmo del Barrio, this
record is essential for any collector of Peruvian cumbia.
Showcasing the unique sound of Los Dexter’s, it carries hits
like “Fuga en la Selva” and “El Shiringuero”, which are sure to
set any dancefloor on fire, combined with slower, carimbó-
infused cumbias like “Fiesta en la Jungla,”and “Agua de
Cachilde.” Its closing track, “Tragedia en Uchiza'', is a key
piece of local history and tells of the flooding of the
Chontayacu River in 1982, a mortal tragedy that affected
thousands of people. Despite the subject matter, the album
maintains a joyful vibe throughout, with high energy riffs and
irresistible rhythms, contrasted with terse love ballads, like “A
Jhenny.” It is both a piece of musical history, and a sure-fire
tool for the dance floor.
Los Dexter’s became a fixture of festivals and celebrations in
the provinces of San Martin and Huánuco, and from expanded
across the country, taking Amazonian cumbia from the
Peruvian Amazon, to the heights of the Peruvian sierra, the
coastal plains, and the capital city of Lima.

After a quarter century Filmmaker are finally willing to admit they were/are an emo band. Formed in 1999 on the Great Plains of Saskatchewan, the group released an EP, an LP, and a smattering of singles and demos before quietly stepping away from the project.

During their brief tenure Filmmaker crisscrossed the country dozens of times without a phone, credit card, map, or clue. “We were just kids figuring out how to be a band in real time.” They shared the stage with the likes of Samiam, SNFU, Kevin Divine, and Propagandhi and spent countless nights sleeping in vans, on floors, and occasionally in hospitals.

Their lone album, An Invitation To An Accident, is now being released by the for the first time ever on vinyl and streaming services via Record Record Label.

The album was made at the legendary Factory Studios in Vancouver, BC with Blair Callibaba (Odds, By A Thread, Gob, Nomeansno). An Invitation To An Accident was recorded to 2” tape and contains only one edit, which was performed surgically with a razor blade. The album was originally released on July 2, 2002 by Farway Records and later in Germany on April 14, 2003 by TFR Music.

f11 FLRNTN, Benjamin Duchenne - "Last Man Standing" (feat Sivan) (1:08)
f12 Nicholas Gunn & Harshil Kamdar - "Here I Am" (feat Alina Renae - Richard Durand remix) (1:08)
f13 DJ TH X TH3 ONE X Sue McLaren - "Everything To Me" (1:08)
f14 Matty Ralph - "Te Adoro" (1:08)
f15 Armin Van Buuren & Vini Vici - "Sarabande" (feat Anna Timofei) (1:08)
f16 Lilly Palmer - "Hare Ram" (1:08)
f17 David Forbes - "Techno Is My Only Drug" (1:08)
f18 Armin Van Buuren - "Blah Blah Blah" (Lilly Palmer remix) (1:08)
f19 Armin Van Buuren - "The Road To Your Destination" (A State Of Trance Year mix 2024 outro) (1:14)

Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.

If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.

Seattle's Chastity Belt and Austin's Holy Wave split a dreamy 7-inch for Suicide Squeeze Records. Chastity Belt's offering, "That Guy," rings with the band's signature laid-back-yet-precise style. Jangly, intricate guitarwork plays off easy rhythms; an upbeat tranquility buoys wistful riffs. The lyrics are honest and introspective as Julia Shapiro admits to being "that kind of guy"_the type who just wants to feel alive, despite the pull of screentime, and the tendency to hold onto something until the life has been sucked out of it. "Maybe quitting is okay, but I don't like giving things away," she sings, backed by warm vocal harmonies. "I'd rather hold on for too long, until all the feeling's gone." For their side, Holy Wave contribute the lush and hypnotic slow burner "Time Crisis Too." Smears of warped synth over meticulous percussion and guitar form a dense tapestry of sound; melodic vibraphone perfects the cinematic nostalgia while the lyrics lament the too-hurried passage of time. Microdoses of experimentation tucked into the layers_seaside waves, swells of distortion, a disembodied second vocal_add intrigue and enhance the vibe.

The follow up release to last years Times & Places Volume 1, which sold out in super quick time has the same four artists, each bringing their own style of old skool rave goodness to the table.
Gridzone gets us off and running with beautiful pads and an oh so familiar soothing female vocal sample. But don’t let this fool you, the harsh amens are just round the corner and when they drop, you will know about it.
Midlife Crisis has similar energy levels in their offering, the breaks are more chopped and more in a jungle vein.
On the flip is the highlight of this EP. NewKiller drops a jungle-techno stormer. 4/4 kicks with high speed breaks, hoover sounds and horror film samples. Its like 1993 all over again. Finally the EP ends with a ragga tinged rudeboy of a stepper from Gold Soundz.

‘Dynamic Movements - Music for Exercise & Relaxation’ is the new album by the Swedish electronic music producer/remix duo of Johan Agebjörn and Mikael Ögren, lovingly released on Ltd. cassette via Lo Recordings.

Back in the 1980’s there was an exercise craze, people wore lycra bodysuits and headbands. All over the world people were making ‘Dynamic Movements’, determined to change the flow, turn their lives around and step into a bright new future. At the same time the New Age movement was blossoming and meditation was the way forward. Meditation and deep relaxation with maybe some crystals and Unicorns, just for fun.

Inspired by these exercise tapes of the 70s/80s and in tribute to those times and movements, Johan and Mikael worked with producers from around the world to create an album of diverse interpretations, bringing us an album of deep sonic nourishment. Sometimes throbbing and at other times gently lapping at your toes, the result is a lavish cassette contrasting ‘music for exercise’ on side A and ‘music for relaxation’ on side B.

Kicking off side one is the duo’s own ‘Dynamo Dance’, a resonant, pulsating slice of electronic pleasure, which gives way to tracks by acclaimed collaborators like the crisp, cruise control groove of Causeway, the dub chug delight of Jarle Brathen and the irrepressible majesty of ‘Lovelock’ (Steve Moore), before Johan and Mikael return with a tribute to the late great Florian Schneider of Kraftwerk.

Side two’s sumptuous drift into a world of soft pads, rippling arpeggios and sultry saxophone (all the saxophone on the album is by the aforementioned Steve Moore) is initiated by Seahawks, with their lysergic ‘Phase Induction’ leading to the extended Cafe Del Mar beach bar ambience of the legendary Fax records maestro Dr Atmo, continuing with the impossibly lush shimmer of Mary Yalex, the gravity defying drift of One Million Eyes and the divine dream world of Patricia Wolf.

Dark Entries has raided the bathhouse to bring us Deep Entries: Gay Electronic Excursions 1979-1985, 10 tracks of obscure queer synth bliss. One of Dark Entries' most important missions has been illuminating neglected facets of gay musical history, with crucial archival works by legends like Patrick Cowley, Sylvester, and Man Parrish. On Deep Entries, the label spans 6 years of gay electronics - from sultry to angsty to camp, these songs are overflowing with snappy 808 snares and sinewy analog synth leads. The '80s were a difficult period for many in the gay community as they grappled with the horrors of the HIV/AIDS crisis. The 10 tracks on Deep Entries, varied in genre and vibe, are united in their portraiture of 1980s gay life, and the hope for love or fleeting romance. Previously unreleased cruising soundtracks come courtesy of Patrick Cowley’s “Love Me Hot” featuring vocalist Paul Parker and Boytronic’s “Tonight (Alternate Mix)” set on Hamburg’s famous “Mile of Sin.” Brisbane-based Megamen deliver the proto-electroclash number “Designed for Living,” which prefigures Madonna’s Marlene Dietrich rap in “Vogue.” Trans vocalist Paula "Ula" Villagrá declares, “Everyone is gay!” on Muzak’s “Happy Song,” a skittering tecnopop anthem. Dereck Higgins' “This Was Something” rings like a lost Joy Division cut draped in bizarre effects, and Polar Praxis’ “(I Want) To Be Different” is a seething ode to alterity. Nightmoves’ “Nightdrive,” is best known as the brooding instrumental B-side to their epochal “Transdance.” Transistor Jet’s “Master Of The Universe (BW's f-w)”, Maxx Mann’s “Just Like a Razor” and Bachelor’s Anonymous’ “A Stranger’s Bed” are mood music for the pleasures of BDSM and one-night stands. The record comes housed in a retro bathhouse fantasy sleeve designed by Gwenaël Rattke and includes a double-sided poster with photographs and lyrics. Deep Entries arrives on December 1st in honor of World AIDS day, and proceeds will go to the San Francisco AIDS Foundation.

Hitch debuts on Just Waxx for its second release, presenting four dancefloor-focused tracks, with a remix by Belgian artist Innershades on A2.

The EP draws inspiration from samples that marked the Catalan producer's childhood, adding a unique and nostalgic touch to each composition.

A1, "Gran Torino," featuring samples from Starsky & Hutch, stands out as the highlight of the release, capturing immediate attention with its unmistakable character.

A2, the "Gran Torino Innershades Remix," takes a deeper, moodier turn. Innershades reworks the original with a brooding bassline and textured layers, infusing the track with a hypnotic, atmospheric quality.

On the B-side, B1, "Hannibal," incorporates samples from Hannibal Smith of The A-Team. The track’s crisp drums and subtle effects create a laid-back yet rhythmic groove, enhanced by intricate layers that bring a sense of progression.

B2, "Delorean," inspired by Back to the Future, rounds off the EP with its futuristic synths and retro influences, seamlessly blending nostalgia and forward-

As Odysee celebrates its 30th anniversary, the label’s original founder Atila Kemal (T-Mirage) steps up to deliver this jaw-dropping E.P.

In 1994, Tilla was just 17 years old, and an integral part of the original St Albans collective that comprised Jim Baker & Phil Aslett (Source Direct) and Rupert Parkes (Photek), when he set up the Odysee imprint and released the first Source Direct record (Future London/Shimmer). With a follow-up release from Photek (Phaze 1/Try A Style) and a second from Source Direct, the profile of the label began to grow exponentially.

It was the 3 Mirage releases however that really put the label on the map. These tracks were engineered by Jim Baker but heavily co-produced by Tilla himself with a major focus on his keen ear for dark 70’s Noire samples and eerie abstract electronica pitted against soulful R&B vocals. In hindsight, the impact of this rather different soundscape on the Source Direct material that followed is unmistakable.

The A side track Dark Rhodes is a showcase of T-Mirage’s production skillsets. From the opening atmosphere of utter menace and spacious percussion, to the trademark call and response between the different breaks and speaker shaking subs; this track will take the listener straight back to that infamous dark 1995/6 sound that emerged from both the Odysee & Source Direct studios. What is particularly noticeable is the distinctive pairing of sets of samples to form unique sections within the piece, whilst maintaining the consistent rolling energy of the drums & bass. This was a clear stylistic trait the earlier tracks like Feel My Dreams, and is very much on display in Dark Rhodes; leaving us in no doubt that we are listening to the work of one of the OG St Albans Jungle masters!

One of the most important aspects of each Odysee release was to demonstrate versatility on the B side tunes. As a label that was an important part of the mid 90’s Atmospheric scene, it would be remiss not to revisit that style on this seminal E.P. The first of the two B-side tracks is the incredible Existence.

Everything about this piece is a pure distillation of Tilla’s musical style; from the intricacy of the break work and the depth of the subs, to the masterful dovetailing of the 70’s Noire and Jazz samples that build a cohesive arrangement drawing the listener deeper into the tune’s narrative- “A piece of music that’s just a pure expression.... A celebration of existence!” There is no need to re-invent the wheel, or to force groundbreaking new tricks when the strength of this classic sound is so overwhelmingly persuasive!

With the final track Flawless, Tilla delivers an absolute heart-breaker of a tune that rivals the very best of the original Odysee & SD B-sides. Misty-eyed pads and Jazzy rides launch the crisp rolling Think breaks. The deep melodic sub line and haunting guitar riffs draw the listener in, then hold the listener in suspense for a moment before dropping down in the body of the track. The gorgeous guitar motifs are paired with achingly gorgeous vocal ad-libs and avant-garde electronica, emerging orchestral flutters with that unmistakable 70’s Noire flavour. Once again it is

Tilla’s ear for those ‘special sounds’ that really sets this track apart, and as if that wasn’t enough, some 4 minutes down the track Flawless nonchalantly unveils another primary motif; well worthy in of itself of being the tracks centrepiece!
Absolutely stunning heritage-style Atmospheric Jungle at its finest!

BRUJERIA is an extreme Mexican-American metal band founded in 1989 in Los Angeles. Under cover of pseudonyms, its original members were the guitarist Dino Cazares ( FEAR FACTORY ), Jello Biafra ( DEAD KENNEDYS ), the drummer Pat Hoed, bassist Billy Gould ( FAITH NO MORE ) and singer Juan Bruno. BRUJERIA first appears as a terrorist group having kidnapped the bosses of Roadrunner Records in order to be able to release a record. This joke having been denied, the group appears as a parallel project that is characterized by the themes of satanism, terrorism, sex, rebellion, and politics. The group forges a reputation of psychopaths by playing on stage , with hooded or masked with scarves, titles called "Marijuana" or "Brujerizmo ( the word "Brujeria" which means "witchcraft" ). BRUJERIA is Mexican hence the name and lyrics in Spanish. Dino Cazares ( exFEAR FACTORY ) was the guitarist. The musicians of BRUJERIA keep their identities secret but it is known that ex-FEAR FACTORY's Dino Cazares, FEAR FACTORY's Asesino and Raymond Herrera, as well as Billy Gould, ex-FAITH NO MORE, have worked on guitar, drums and bass, Nicolas Barker ( ex-CRADLE OF FILTH etc ) takes also part of the butchery, just to name a few...

BRUJERIA is an extreme Mexican-American metal band founded in 1989 in Los Angeles. Under cover of pseudonyms, its original members were the guitarist Dino Cazares ( FEAR FACTORY ), Jello Biafra ( DEAD KENNEDYS ), the drummer Pat Hoed, bassist Billy Gould ( FAITH NO MORE ) and singer Juan Bruno. BRUJERIA first appears as a terrorist group having kidnapped the bosses of Roadrunner Records in order to be able to release a record. This joke having been denied, the group appears as a parallel project that is characterized by the themes of satanism, terrorism, sex, rebellion, and politics. The group forges a reputation of psychopaths by playing on stage , with hooded or masked with scarves, titles called "Marijuana" or "Brujerizmo ( the word "Brujeria" which means "witchcraft" ). BRUJERIA is Mexican hence the name and lyrics in Spanish. Dino Cazares ( exFEAR FACTORY ) was the guitarist. The musicians of BRUJERIA keep their identities secret but it is known that ex-FEAR FACTORY's Dino Cazares, FEAR FACTORY's Asesino and Raymond Herrera, as well as Billy Gould, ex-FAITH NO MORE, have worked on guitar, drums and bass, Nicolas Barker ( ex-CRADLE OF FILTH etc ) takes also part of the butchery, just to name a few...

If Katsuhiro Otomo’s Akira were a utopia instead of its opposite, this EP could be a possible sound track. Using the ingredients of classic house as a platform (pianos anyone?), Nick Nikolov‘s imagination as a producer for his new new NKLV project is far too vivid to stay on the beaten track.

The sound design and nerdy attention of IDM and ambient (Clusters) connects with the brazen boogie approach of the French touch, micro-sampling manifestos have to stand up to the weirder moments of signature sounds like Basement Jaxx or KiNK‘s musical side (Heartbeat). Not too far off from his peer‘s early approach, the Bulgarian‘s take is emotionally charged, play- and powerful.

For instance, Speak to Me and No More hit their respective topical nails on the head and the EPs title track Inbetween is sultry serotonin soul. If you are looking for plain and pure euphoria in between all the hardships, happiness is just around the bend.

his release marks the first complete album reissue on Canopy. Originally released in Nigeria in 1987, “Oppressor” was executive produced by Myke Moul himself and distributed domestically by EMI Nigeria & Tropic Records.

“Oppressor”, the album, finds the sweet spot between synth reggae, boogie, and euphoric Balearic island vibes.

Written by Myke Moul and arranged in collaboration with reggae star Majek Fashek in Nigeria, it was later re-crafted and recorded in France with a host of French musicians. Most notably the contribution of multi instrumentalist Pierre de St Front added engaging synthesiser parts and electronic drums.

Unfortunately the pressing of the album suffered from inherent technical flaws which adversely affected the sound quality and therefore even those lucky enough to find a copy, will not be able to enjoy it without considerable sonic defects. Therefore this remastered reissue will prove welcome to both collectors and new discoverers.

The titular track “Oppressor” stands out as a mid-tempo synth-reggae-boogie jam espousing the turbulent political times in Nigeria that were present in the late 80s. Elsewhere “Shadows in the Rain” is an instrumental cut displaying a jazz-funk sensibility which was unusual for a Nigerian artist at that time, and reflects Myke’s influences outside his home country. “Heading for the Top” is a boogie dance floor gem that shows the popularity of this genre at the time, as evidenced in many Nigerian releases and still sounds just as vital today. “Rescue us. O! Lord” shows Myke’s great song writing and Pierre’s fine musical skills working in tandem to create a reggae boogie tune, displaying the reggae & ska tendencies that were present in pop music in this era, from artists such as Grace Jones, Sly & Robbie or The Police.

All in all, the album demonstrates something fresh & exciting for Nigerian album reissues, touching down in a reggae fusion direction, with some fuller sounding production aesthetics, making the dynamics full and crisp on sound systems while also well suited to home listening.

"As I'm getting older, chip up on my shoulder..." is the opening line from Mac DeMarco's second full-length LP `Salad Days,' the follow up to 2012's lauded `Mac DeMarco 2.' Amongst that familiar croon and lilting guitar, that initial line from the title track sets the tone for an LP of a maturing singer/songwriter/producer. Someone strangely self-aware of the positives and negatives of their current situation at the ripe old age of 23. Written and recorded around a relentless tour schedule (which picked up all over again as soon as the LP was done), `Salad Days' gives the listener a very personal insight into what it's all about to be Mac amidst the craziness of a rising career in a very public format. The lead single, "Passing Out Pieces," set to huge overdriven organ chords, contains lines like "...never been reluctant to share, passing out pieces of me..." Clearly, this isn't the same record that breezily gave us "Dreamin," and "Ode to Viceroy" but the result of what comes from their success. "Chamber of Reflection," a track featuring icy synth stabs and soulful crooning, wouldn't be out of place on a fantasy Shuggie Otis and Prince collaboration. Standout tracks like these show Mac's widening sound, whether insights into future directions or even just welcome one-off forays into new territory. Still, this is musically, lyrically and melodically good old Mac DeMarco, through and through. The same crisp John Lennon / Phil Spector era homegrown lush production that could have walked out of Geoff Emerick's mixing board in 1972, but with that peculiar Mac touch that's completely of right now. "Brother," a complete future classic, is Mac at his most soulful and easygoing but with that distinct weirdness and bite that can only come from Mr. DeMarco. "Treat Her Better" is rife with "Mac-isms," heavily chorused slinky lead guitar, swooning vocal melodies, effortless chords that come along only after years of effort, and the other elements seriously lacking in independent music: sentiment and heartfelt sincerity. We're only at Part 2 and 1/2 (one EP and two LP's in) into Mac's career. As you read this and as you hear the album on April Fool's Day of this year, he'll probably be on tour, or preparing for one... or maybe already writing new music. A relentless work ethic is something to be admired in today's indie music scene, but when it's of the quality Mac is giving us time and time again, it starts to turn from admiration to awe.

Techno House Connoisseurs are back with a proper VA full of acid and tech house delights for the heads. This EP has 5 dance floor whoppers for even the most discerning ear. Starting things off on the A side is Los Angeles duo Warehouse Preservation Society with a chunky bass heavy breakbeat-ish slammer called Fugitive Funk. Hypnotic west coast music at its finest. THC is stoked to welcome Londons Flash Mitra to the label. Flash's debut track is a psychedelic acid house gem perfect for those looking for something moody, dreamy and percussive. This jam will be welcomed on dance floors worldwide. Flip to the B side with THC stalwart Praus unleashing another low slung acid chugger. Magnetism creeps along working its way into your psyche with its warped and unusual vocal snippets and percussive rhythms topped with a healthy dose of 303. Big room cosmica muziks! Track 2 on the B finds label head Space Ace and Seattle's Sherman C of Selector records together bringing to light a buried acid monster titled Just a dream. Crisp percussion underlies a burly acid baseline with more 303 with a breakdown that will bring the floor to a peak. Not for the faint of heart. Lastly Warehouse Preservation rounds out the VA with a filthy dub of Fugitive Funk with a bass line that will rumble the floor and percussion that is so satisfying you will be looping it throughout your set. Bells, congas and claps all reverberating and panning for that head candy you won't be able to get out of your head.

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

The Intima led a chameleon-like existence from 1999 to 2004, confounding critics who struggled to describe their distinctive sound while sharing stages with everyone from The Rapture to The Mekons. Hailing from Olympia and Portland, the postpunk quartet utilized sharp rhythms, prescient lyrics, and a collaborative compositional approach to conjure forth a sound that manages to be explosive yet detailed, experimental yet propulsive and melodic. Featuring a classically-trained violinist, custom-tuned guitars that careen at odd angles, and an imaginative and powerful rhythm section, the band explored the intersection of art-punk and agitpop with a spirit and tenor uniquely their own. In 2017, the Polish website More Noise summed up their sound by saying that "the first association that comes to mind is The Ex and the Dutch avant punk scene of the 1980s, but fans of the bands Dirty Three, Godspeed You Black Emperor and Unwound may also be intrigued."The group toured the States extensively during the 4+ years that they were active, including one grueling six-week tour undertaken just after 9/11 and another one in 2003 during which the US began bombing Iraq. The group's live sets are remembered for their combination of unbridled intensity and tightly-coiled musicianship, as well as their chaos potential, whether that chaos was performing in the middle of an illegal street party or causing a PA to burst into flames immediately preceding a headlining set by Deerhoof. A memorable show in DC with Q And Not U was mentioned by Dischord group Black Eyes in their Speaking In Tongues booklet last year, with Hugh McElroy describing the Intima as "a really aggressively-beautiful and poetic punk band with a violin where a guitar normally would be...pushing genre barriers in a way that helped me see a vision of how we might want to do that ourselves."Peril and Panic was recorded in Olympia over eight months in 2002 and was released in 2003 on LP (Zum/Collective Jyrk) and CD (Slowdance). In 2022, in the midst of the pandemic, the group commissioned Jason Powers to remix the original tracks from the ground up, which turned into an 18-month endeavor that included some compositional edits, significant work to improve the sound of the drums, and the uncovering of unreleased songs. Today, a fully remixed and remastered Peril and Panic is finally being released into the wild sounding much closer to how it was originally meant to be heard. Sounding more relevant than ever, it seems increasingly clear that the ideas and feelings that informed both band and album are no longer so "radical" - if anything, they've become the zeitgeist of today, as a confluence of global crises points to a fraught future long predicted.

After a triptych released by Un je-ne-sais-quoi, in barely 3 years, under the name Tachycardie, Jean-Baptiste Geoffroy, musician, composer but also visual artist, continues his very singular journey to the heart of sound matter, with an album composed on Baschet sound structures.

From the 1950s, the Baschet brothers created a truly innovative set of instruments which has since fascinated musicians seeking new sound experiences.

Both sculptures of glass, metal and instruments of great acoustic sharpness, these sound structures have made rare but remarkable forays into recordings of contemporary music (Bernard Baschet, Jacques Lasry, Luc Ferrari, Toru Takemitsu, Jonathan Fitoussi…).

The Baschet brothers were also keen to use these instruments for educational purposes in the form of workshops, cultural action projects or simply by inviting the public to try these instruments at the end of concerts. It is in the Ateliers Baschet, a place aimed at preserving and transmitting the work of the brothers (workshops, conferences, residencies) that Tachycardie recorded this new album.

After having combined on his previous albums, analog synthesis, audio-naturalism and percussion in an overwhelming balance, he explored here all the sonic variety of Baschet structures. He then just sculpted this sound material in his studio, using simple effects: editing and pitch.

The result is a new path to explore in Tachycardie’s world, made of subtle percussive crackles, beneficial chaos and restorative oscillations.

repress !

Patrice Scott emerges from the studio, once again, with a fresh 4-tracker of authentic Sistrum sounds to soothe, move and invigorate listeners, worldwide.

The vibes are high and the grooves are modern, yet firmly rooted in tradition. Put simply, this is proper deep house music for the heads, crafted as only Patrice can. Enjoy the sonic journey…

1 – For My People
A low-slung groover, “For My People” opens the EP in fine form. Soft chords lay the groundwork as the bassline bobs and weaves through the rhythm section. Liquid synth stabs soon punctuate the groove, as dreamy layers float in and out. Without a doubt, this is a high quality head-nodder and a dancefloor delight.

2 – Let’s Dance
Elevating the BPMs ever-so-slightly, “Let’s Dance” gets moving with a proper, straight ahead rhythm, sprinkled with just enough shuffle to add that P. Scott signature. Blippy keys bounce atop a backdrop of sweet synth chords while the bassline punches through in refined fashion. This is the Sistrum brand of deep, hypnotic, spiritual house music, straight up.

3 - Abstract Jazz
This one is all about those keys… Amidst the crisp, punchy beats, the electric piano dances and hypnotizes. There is really only one option when this cut is on the system - close your eyes and feel it.

4 - The Detroit Track
Nothing less than an homage to his hometown and the sounds and culture that have shaped a musical revolution, “The Detroit Track” is a study in timeless quality. Jazzy synth riffs, punchy bass, spacey echoes and classic, shuffled beat structures remind us that Detroit house music has a special magic unto itself. Feel the magic and let it move you.

From the first notes of Symbiont, the radical new collaborative album and document of Black and Indigenous futurism from Jake Blount and Mali Obomsawin, the listener is met with rising tidewaters, massive droughts, and the appearance of an iconoclastic uprising amidst the worlds indifference. Questions of future or present tense swirl around the music as the duo unspools the intertwined threads of racial and climate justice. Amid rumbling synthesizer drones, the thrum of banjo, and the thwack of drum machines, a whisper of truth can be heard: this crisis has been unfolding for centuries.

Mutant is proud to present Academy Award-winning composer Michael Giacchino's latest album, Exotic Themes for the Silver Screen – Volume 1, featuring iconic scores from Giacchino's extensive portfolio rendered in the retro lounge style of Exotica from the 1950s.



“It's no secret that we at Mutant are huge fans of Michael Giacchino,” says Spencer Hickman, Co-Founder of Mutant. “We're excited to release a retrospective of his astonishing three decades as a composer. Rather than just curating a simple compilation of his previous works, Michael went back into the studio, rearranged and re-recorded every major theme from his career. These tracks have been recorded in an Easy Listening style inspired by such greats as Martin Denny and Les Baxter, creating not just a unique and incredible look back at some of the most beloved movie and television themes of the modern age, but also bringing a fresh, exciting take to the beautiful journey he has taken us all on with him. It feels like you are discovering these songs for the very first time: timeless, beautiful, and a joy to listen to. These newly recorded themes transport you to a far-off sunset, looking out at the ocean, complete with a cocktail in hand, providing a much-needed escape from the stress of modern times, and we can all agree that is something we all crave right now.”



Exotic Themes for the Silver Screen – Volume 1 spans nearly two decades of Michael Giacchino’s music, from his early video game scores to his television hits and blockbuster films. The album transforms these works through the lens of Exotica, replacing epic strings and thundering drums with vibraphones and marimbas.



“This album was inspired by the work of Arthur Lyman and Martin Denny,” says Giacchino. “What would they do with the Star Trek theme? Or video games like Medal of Honor? It was a way for me to play in that world I loved so much growing up. I thought it would be fun to create a fantasy world, where this album was recorded back in 1967 and then lost, only to resurface today.”

The album showcases Giacchino’s unerring talent for melody, stripping down grand symphonies to their essential elements while retaining their aesthetic and emotional core.



“So much was rooted in the big orchestral sound, so it was really about scaling it back. The real trick is figuring out the little fun hooks and things you can add along the way. There were no rules; I was up for anything. It was a way to re-engage with the material and be creative in a new way.”



Exotic Themes for the Silver Screen – Volume 1 includes an array of reinterpreted pieces from Michael Giacchino’s career. Highlights include ‘Primordial Forest’ from the 1997 video game The Lost World: Jurassic Park, ‘Life and Death’ from Lost, the theme from Ratatouille, ‘Roar!’ from Cloverfield, ‘Enterprising Young Men’ from Star Trek (2009), ‘A Man, A Plan, A Code, Dubai’ from Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol, and a Super 8 suite.



Featuring package design by Luke Insect, and liner notes by Charlie Brigden.

Solomun & CASSIM remix two of the track rake from Radio Slave’s Venti album released earlier this year

Diynamic boss and Ibiza titan Solomun remixes Radio Slave ‘The Lunatics’ on Rekids, following the original’s inclusion in Matt Edwards’ acclaimed ‘Venti’ album in May. The original, a rework itself, reimagined the 1981 Fun Boy Three track ‘The Lunatics Have Taken Over The Asylum’, with Edwards’ ode to the band’s late lead vocalist and The Specials frontman Terry Hall winning support from Saoirse, Erol Alkan, Jennifer Cardini, Laurent Garnier, Paul Woolford, and Honey Dijon.
Solomun’s remix of ‘The Lunatics’ is sparkling aural nostalgia executed with total joy. Crisp 80s drums, Stranger Things-esque Jupiter 8 synth swells, the vocoded titular vocal, and a gloriously rich sliding bassline combine to drag the listener back to 1983 in the best possible way. As the track builds, rousing guitars join the ensemble, completing what is a hypnotic, melodic trip to the 80s via what’s set to be a 2024 anthem.

CASSIMM’s remix of Radio Slave vs Audion’s ‘Mouth To Mouth’ continues the story of Matthew Dear’s classic, which Radio Slave revived and reinvented as part of his 2024 LP, ‘Venti’.
Radio Slave’s hi-NRG disco cover of Audion’s minimal/maximal 2006 and era-defining anthem has dominated dancefloors since it emerged as a single in late 2023, with the likes of Erol Alkan, Job Jobse, Sean Johnston, Jennifer Cardini and Eats Everything continuing to play it today and the latter awarding it an Essential New Tune whilst sitting in for Pete Tong on BBC Radio 1.
Now, recent Rekids alum CASSIMM continues his huge run of form with a chunky, main-room house interpretation that shows just why his recent release, ‘House of Moves,’ won DJ support from the likes of Tong, Arielle Free, Paul Woolford, Honey Dijon, and Jennifer Loveless.
CASSIMS’s remix of Radio Slave vs Audion quickly follows Lindstrom and Solomun’s remixes of the ‘Venti’ LP’s tracks, which have seen support from the likes of Ivan Smagghe, Chloé Caillet, Nightmares On Wax, and more.

Coming out on September 6th on Sharptone Records, Sundiver is Boston Manor’s fifth album and one that represents a glimmering dawn for the Blackpool five-piece. Grown from a seedbed of optimism and sobriety, the LP celebrates new beginnings, second chances and rebirth. With two members recently stepping into fatherhood, hope is baked into every note. “Datura came out of these really dark few years over the hangover of the pandemic,” Henry reflects. “I'd been struggling a lot with drinking and not taking care of myself and bad mental health and stuff. We wanted Sundiver to be the next morning of the following day.” He explains that it feels good this time round to write through the lens of positivity. “The themes began to emerge, of rebirth, spring, dawn, sunshine and then other elements just started to fit into that.” It was during the making of Sundiver that Henry found out he was going to be a dad. This album is a significant one for the band. Originally coming out of the emo and pop punk scene, they’ve explored sonics and genres throughout their career, taken risks and achieved more than they could ever had dreamed of. They’ve grown up as Boston Manor – their lives and the world changing around them. They’re now taking stock, at a crossroads of the band they were and the band they could be.
While writing the album, they revisited the bands that shaped them in the late 90s and early 00s. “I was listening to the music I loved when I was a teenager and I just thought, why don't we make music like our favourite bands?”, guitarist Mike Cuniff remembers with a smile. “So we brought our interests to the table that way. Y2K kind of vibe. There are elements of Deftones, there are elements of Portishead in there, some Garbage, The Cardigans.” He laughs and adds NSYNC to the list of inspirations. From this cocktail of classics comes a dynamic and ambitious record, rich with depth, groove and more hooks than Peter Pan’s nightmares. Lyrics that foxtrot from parallel universes to personal growth, vivid dreamscapes to raw grief. Individually they’re single strokes full of meaning and magic. Together they’re a landscape.
Container (out Feb 15th) is the first single and it’s them at their best – impassioned and infectious. “This song is about the stagnancy of life creeping up on you & how that can bring about change.,” Henry explains, citing Ocean Song by US band Daughters as an inspiration.

The concept of the butterfly effect is present on Sundiver – how small actions can lead to big changes. This is no clearer than on their second single, Sliding Doors (out April 5th). It has the golden sound of late 90s Lollapalooza rock – think Smashing Pumpkins - rebooted with crisp 2024 production and a potent heaviness. In the lyrics Henry wonders, what if?, pondering on what could be. The idea that there are infinite versions of you whose lives splinter off in different directions at every decision you make. That there’s another you out there somewhere right now reading this sentence, and another me writing it. “So much is down to chance and circumstance,” Henry says. “You might catch that train and your life totally changes. Or you might miss it and things stay the way they are.”
Heat Me Up (out May 30th) is defiant and victorious, the audio equivalent of quitting your shit job and driving into the hot summer sun with a head full of dreams. “The lyrics are about love and gratitude,” Henry shares. “Another theme on the record is just appreciating what you have. It’s about not taking for granted the things that you've been afforded.”
There was some natural magic in the creation of Sundiver. They worked with their usual producer, Larry Hibbitt, and engineer, Alex O’Donovan, but instead of recording in London again they ended up in the green pastures of Welwyn Garden City. “Because Larry lives out in the countryside now, it was a way different environment and way different experience recording this time,” Mike remembers. “That contributed a lot to the brighter sound of the record.” The daily barbecues they had during their recording sessions imbued the process with harmony – five old friends spending quality time together and making quality music.
However, the album is by no means one-note. Birthing this new world they’ve created wasn’t without it’s pain, and that can be heard in the heavier moments on Sundiver. What Is Taken Will Never Be Lost is the most-stripped back on the album, a slow rock number seasoned with the downtempo Portishead influence. The heartfelt lyrics are Henry’s way of processing the loss of his grandfather, who died in a hospice last year(?). “It was just fucking horrible. It was always cold when I went there and they were always trying to get rid of me. The song title, What Was Taken Can Ever Be Lost, is the idea of his memory fading at the time because of dementia.” Henry goes onto explain that shoeboxes of photographs, diaries and a legacy is what he’s left behind. “He lived a really rich life and it has really impacted me and my father. His legacy is etched into the fabric of history in a very small way.” This song continues the connection between his grandfather and the band, as his painted face is emblazoned on the cover of the very first Boston Manor EP, Driftwood. As well as emotionally heavy themes, there’s heaviness in the music of Sundiver too. The closing song, Oil In My Blood, descends into an intense shoegaze outro with Debbie Gough from Heriot screaming hellfire. It’s in moments like this that the band show us aggression and fury can be as much a part of positive change as quiet introspection. The last lyrics of the song, “It resets and starts again,” leaves us in contemplation as the final chord rings out.
Touring the US, Europe and Japan over the years makes for an impressive CV, but if you know anything about Boston Manor you’ll know that they’re all about their hometown. Their choice to work with Blackpool-based photographer Nick Barkworth is testament to that. They’ve been working with him since the pandemic. “He captures Blackpool in a light that really reflects the weirdness and quirkiness of the town,” Henry says.” He's got a really good way of presenting that.” For the Sundiver cover, Nick photographed a 30ft tall abstract glass sculpture made by the local artist John Ditchfield. A striking and bewitching monolith that’s familiar to them but unusual to most people. “It has such kind of a gravity and power to it,” Henry describes the sculpture which stands in a field just outside of the seaside town. “It reminds me of either an explosion or a star or a supernova. To me it represents new life, power and radiance.” Boston Manor have got a knack for that - connecting the otherworldly and the everyday, the stars and the streets.
They’re a band known for using their music to make bigger statements about society. This time round they’re harnessing the uplifting power of music, and the communion it creates, as an antidote to the daily doom and isolation. “It seems like absolute chaos out there at the moment,” Henry says. “You’ve got Gaza and Israel, you've got Russia, you've got the fact that 40% of the world is going to have an election this year and increasingly most governments are leaning very far to the Right. The internet is dividing everybody, people are getting poorer and more desperate. It's really, really scary.” They considered trying to tackle the weight of it all in their music. “We could’ve written Welcome to the Neighbourhood on steroids, where it's just absolute darkness and misery”. He’s referring to their 2018 concept album that deals with class, inequality and the bleaker side of Blackpool. “But I think it's really important to write something that people can be immersed in and find some sort of solace in. Somewhere they can escape to from the modern day pressures and everything that’s going on. We’re all in this together.”

The weather might never be hot in the UK but the 7th release from Regulate Recordings is an absolute scorcher! Coming hot on the heels of the “The Rhythm / Make Em Bounce” going to the top of the Juno charts and doing serious dance floor damage the North West imprint have gone even bigger for the next release with a daisy age inspired transatlantic cross over.
Manchester producer Atomphunk has teamed up with Seattle Duo Mugs and Pockets with turntablist extraordinaire DJ Deviant on the cuts. The results are without doubt the jams of the summer, which is handy because the A side is called “Summer Jam”. With a popping funk bass line and rhymes dancing over the top that immediately evoke the spirit of the Native Tongues, but added into the mix is that Grand Central / Fat City groove and the West Coast USA bounce of Jurassic 5 and their collaborators, (Chali2Na is a big supporter of Mugs & Pockets). In a packed field “Summer Jam” might just be Regulate’s biggest release yet.

Things don’t let up on the flip “Back For More” sees Atomphunk go for the hotter stickier side of the season, with a more laid back synth driven groove evoking Roy Ayers and Quincy Jones, but with crisp beats and Mugs and Pockets bringing it once more. Don’t sleep on this one.

Ibrahim Alfa Jnr has been making and releasing techno ever since he was just 17 years of age. At that time he had already been playing piano for over a decade and since then he has secured a master's degree in the sonic arts. He is a live act and DJ who has played across the world and now lands on the Swiss label Acquit Records. This new and translucent red 12" opens with the sonorous bells and drones of 'Red Lights' over crispy, metallic, broken techno drums. 'Eternity' is another brash bit of broken beat techno, 'Rattle' does just that and 'Metal Mikey' cuts loose on some spangled synths and tribal drumming. 'Commodities' is a low-key drum track that will make 'floors jack.

First time out for this wildly raw dubplate, sister-recording to the Pablo master-rhythm, shot through with other-worldly, illusively allusive incantation.
Surely that's Family Man stalking a sunken cavern, and his bro battering all seven shades out of his drum-kit, like Meters on fire, and Chinna on guitar, glazed and violent. The mixing rears up right in your face.
Producer Gussie Clarke says Theophilus 'Easy Snappin' Beckford is playing piano, with the front removed so he can strum the strings (like he finally snapped) — but he credits the work overall to Augustus Pablo.
Transferred from acetate — fuss-pots don't grumble, just be humble — though the flip brings a clutch of criss, unmissable alternates, direct from Gussie's tape-room (where the files are entitled 'Classical Illusion / The Sun').
Heavy, heavy funk. Simplicity People dug in. Stunning.

LIMITED EDITION LILAC COLOURED VINYL LP WITH DOWNLOAD CODE
It's a year later and everything has gone from bad to worse.

Machiavellian Art and Riot Season Records present "Population Control". A Sonic Examination of the Mechanisms of Control.

An intense exploration of societal and self-imposed controls, encapsulated in a dynamic contrast between Side A's visceral anger and the introspective ambiance of Side B. This duality mirrors the contrasting themes of external control versus internal reflection.

"Population Control" extends beyond its predecessor, "Indoctrination Sounds," in both musical depth and thematic scope. The album confronts a broad spectrum of modern-day addictions - not just to substances, but to technology, social media, and the relentless 24-hour news cycle. These themes manifest across tracks like "A Slow Death," "Population Control (1) + (2)," "Fear of the Outside World," and "Crisis," each exploring the resulting isolation, paranoia, fear, and hopelessness. "Seaside Holiday," a critique of environmental negligence, specifically highlighting the issue of untreated sewage being dumped into Britain's waterways by private companies.

Previous praise:

"Incredibly progressive, psychedelic but massively discordant, saxophone and static infused psych rock chaos" (Nineherz)

"Nasty noise rock with sax and freeform jam segments, but also—because you may have heard music which answers to that description before—a stamp of individuality." (Maximum Rock N Roll)

"Want a weird and dangerous album with a lot to say then Indoctrination Sounds is that album. " (Outlaws Of The Sun)

"Indoctrination Sounds is a total exercise in distorted, claustrophobic riffs, uneasy, anxious vibes, and industrial noise." (The Sleeping Shaman)

Machiavellian Art are: Amy Murphy, Benjamin Thomas, Joe Parkes, John Andrews,Sam Hunt

At the frayed bottom-edge of Indiana - just a moderate bike ride north of Louisville, Kentucky - multi-instrumentalist, artist and songwriter Ryan Davis' Americana-noir soundwaves have been emanating for years in a myriad of forms. As driving force for the lauded State Champion, long-running member of Tropical Trash, administrator of the esoteric and excellent Cropped Out festival, and lone proprietor of the Sophomore Lounge label, Davis lays down his first proper 'solo' release with Dancing On The Edge, a rich, 2LP tapestry of tunes that absolutely glows over seven expansive cuts. It's a pure collage of modernity and heritage. Recorded in early 2023 with help both in-studio and remotely from peers like Joan Shelley, Catherine Irwin (Freakwater), Will Lawrence (Felice Brothers, Gun Outfit, John Early), Jenny Rose (Giving Up), Christopher May (Mail the Horse), Elisabeth Fuchsia (Footings, Bonnie "Prince" Billy), and Aaron Rosenblum (Son of Earth, Sapat), the results herein are melancholic, gentle, minimal yet colorful in mood: a lilting highway accompaniment of crisp instrumentation and a relaxed, amiable approach to vocals with rhapsodic wordsmithery. Fans of the aforementioned artists as well as those of Souled American, David Berman, Kurt Vile and 'Comes A Time'-era Neil should all easily find bounty. While bare-boned and uncluttered in presentation, many of these pieces track over 6 minutes allowing a fair amount of expansiveness. Dancing On The Edge stares down into the navel of the American Experience underbelly with a fair amount of outward reach. Besides the Kosmische-synth and violin stabs reaching into a European element, stately organ swells build a musical bridge between 1969 Southern California and Felt's latter era smooth moves, with layers of intelligent gesture taking this well beyond the realm of its archetypal indie troubadour/acoustic songwriter tag. Music and mint juleps never went down so well together." Originally released via Ryan's own label, Sophomore Lounge, in the US late 2023, it picked up some incredible reviews: best of 2023 in both Pitchfork and Rolling Stone, 9/10 lead review in Uncut, and a raft of other notable publications. "This is the sound of someone bearing a torch." - Bill Callahan (Smog) - RIYL Silver Jews, BPB, Lambchop, Cass McCoombs, Sparklehorse.

Sect have a lot on their minds. With the release of their brand new single, New Low and the promise of Plagues Upon Plagues, the follow up full-length to 2019’s Blood of the Beasts, Sect explore the intersection of issues which have cascaded over us for the last five years, the “plagues” of the title referring to the literal pandemic, and the metaphorical plague of the political state and the rise of fascism.

Comprised of an international cast of stellar musicians, who cut their teeth in a formative moment of political, cynical, antagonistic extremes, Sect unites Scott Crouse (Earth Crisis, Tooth & Claw) & Jimmy Chang (Undying, Catharsis) - guitars, Steve Hart (Day of Suffering, Mania For Conquest) - bass, Andy Hurley (Fall Out Boy, Racetraitor) - drums and Chris Colohan (Cursed, Unwell) - vocals. They released No Cure For Death in 2017 and Blood of the Beasts in 2019.

Plagues Upon Plagues opens with the bereft waves of “No Uncertain Terms”, a side of the band we haven’t seen before. Vocalist Chris Colohan describes this album as “a funeral rather than a trial”, the activism of previous releases fading to sorrow and grief.

Lead single New Low follows with the advent of marching drums, a funereal procession for the world we hoped to build. There’s frantic horror on the album too, with the track “Drowning in Sorrows” taking a look at the ways in which we numb ourselves as a society. “#ForeverHome” is a bitterly angry track about how people used animals for both narcissistic virtue signalling and one-way comfort in the pandemic, and abandoned them en masse just as selfishly when social life came back. Speaking to their straight-edge principles and how that continues to feed into their songwriting, Chris says, “the only kind of straight edge songs I’m interested in writing are dynamic ones that address human realities that you don’t have to be straight edge to engage with.”

On Plagues Upon Plagues, Sect pierce through the veil of complacency, forcing listeners to confront uncomfortable truths about the fragility of our world. The band wields their sonic arsenal like a prophetic warning and with raw vocals and uncompromising lyrics, they confront the harsh realities of existence in these tumultuous times. As society teeters on the brink of chaos, Sect's cold hard statement resonates with an urgency that cannot be ignored.

Available on “Green Tea” colored vinyl, limited to 300. Remixed by Chris Teti & remastered by Kris Crummet for 10th Anniversary. Recommend If You Like: Prince Daddy & the Hyena, Into It. Over It., Blink-182. Maybe it always had to be this way. Posture & the Grizzly formed in Connecticut, in '08, and churned out a couple of demo tapes before dropping their debut LP in early 2014. Busch Hymns was scrappy and raw, all weed smoke and pent-up fury. Songs like "Egg Nog Drunk Off Hilary Duff's Piss" (yeah) and "You Know I Know What You Did Last Summer" exemplify the band's charm perfectly crystalline, wobbly leads ready to burst under bouncy hooks equal parts snarl and singalong. Just a glance at the tracklist lets you know what Posture & the Grizzly's all about: eight goofily titled songs in and out in eighteen minutes. Just in time for the LP's tenth anniversary, it's been given a remix by The World Is…'s Chris Teti, who originally produced and engineered the album back in 2013, along with remastering from Kris Crummett (Knuckle Puck, Dance Gavin Dance). Sometimes when an album like this is remastered, it loses some of its charm; the gloss crowds out the grit, the whole thing is recolored a bit too bright. But not so on Busch Hymns—these songs are crisper, but that doesn't mean they're cleaner. J. Nasty's throaty howls are as ragged as ever, but this time around they stand out against Piss Malone and Cabbage Pile's rhythm section, no longer straining for spotlight but basking in it. Their sound would get streamlined a bit over the course of their next two albums, I Am Satan and Posture & the Grizzly, replacing some of Busch Hymns's bite with a clearer-eyed sparkle and a newfound melodicism. Busch Hymns stands now as a document of the cult punks' early days, a transitional period from their throat-shredding demo days to their all-too-brief time as a pop-punk juggernaut. It's clearer than ever with the Busch Hymns remaster that Posture & the Grizzly was meant to sound like this, was meant for more than basement shows and beer-soaked floors. In this light, Busch Hymns is more than a transitional period; it's a glimpse into the greatness to come. So if you're sick of listening to modern punk too, then quit it. Listen to Busch Hymns instead

"I was in a dream, but now I can see that change is the only law." With a credo adapted from science fiction author Octavia E. Butler, an album title from a collection of metaphysical poetry, and an expansion in consciousness brought on by personal crisis, guitarist and songwriter Shana Cleveland learns to embrace a changing world with unconditional love on News of the Universe, the new full-length from California rock band La Luz. News of the Universe is a record born of calamity, a work of dark, beautiful psychedelia reflecting Cleveland's experience of having her world blown apart by a breast cancer diagnosis just two years after the birth of her son. It's also a portrait of a band in flux, marking the first appearance for drummer Audrey Johnson and the final ones from longtime members bassist Lena Simon and keyboardist Alice Sandahl, whose contributions add a bittersweet edge to a record that is both elegy for an old world and cosmic road map to a strange new one. But is there any band in the world more suited to capturing the chaos of change in all its messy beauty than La Luz? Formed by Cleveland in 2012, La Luz is beloved for their ability to balance bedlam and bliss, each new record another fine-tuning of the band's mix of swaggering riffs with angelic vocals borrowed from doo-wop and folk; a band so reliably great that it makes the huge step forward in confidence and sheer musicality that is News of the Universe all the more formidable. Cleveland, also a writer and painter, has developed into a truly original songwriter with her own canon of haunted psychedelia. Yet if Cleveland has spent years writing songs about ghosts, what lurks in the shadows of News of the Universe is nothing less than death itself. "There are moments on this album that sound to me like the last frantic confession before an asteroid destroys the earth," says Cleveland. The powerful sense of openness that permeates News of the Universe is at least partially due to the fact that it is a record made entirely by women-from the performing, writing, and producing all the way through to the recording, engineering, and mastering. Working with producer Maryam Qudos (Spacemoth), the all-female environment allowed Cleveland to feel safe tapping into difficult places and expressing hard emotions women are socialized to suppress. Unashamedly vulnerable, unabashedly feminine, and undeniably triumphant, News of the Universe is another knockout record from a band so reliably great that it has perhaps led people to overlook how pioneering La Luz really are: women of color in indie music forging their own path by following their own artistic star into galaxies beyond current musical trends, always led by an earnest belief in the cosmic power of love and a great riff. Never is that more true than on News of the Universe, which might be La Luz's most brutal record to date but also their most blissful.

ZZK Records presents TORNA, a new series of releases exploring electronic music from a Latin American perspective. With these DJ-level vinyl editions (12" and 45 RPM), we're aiming for the global dancefloor, bringing fresh and challenging tracks. The name is inspired by the concept of "La Torna," an economic institution formed by indigenous Atacama Lickan-Antay, Aymara and Diaguita peoples (in territories now occupied by Argentina, Bolivia and Chile), involving working together for the common good, for the benefit of the whole community. Just as we decided to found ZZK Records in 2007 at the height of the crisis in the recording industry, releasing Latin American electronic material on vinyl records of 7 to 9 minutes per side (in some cases with just two tracks) is also a leap of confidence today. This is our humble contribution in synergy with the community of music artists and fans, who we hope to keep running into on the dancefloors of the world. Colombian-born, Argentina-based producer Hermetics heads up the first release, setting the tone for the series with two fresh and challenging tracks, aiming for the global dancefloor.

Warehouse Find!

Seems like something's going on across the pond at the moment with seemingly blossoming, or at least rejuvenated scenes in the United States and Canada. Our last handful of releases on Freerange have included artists from Montreal, Tujuana, Pittsburgh and Chicago and we're about to add Los Angeles to the list with this new one from Justin Jay and Ulf Bonde. The young producers have been steadily building steam with a number of fine releases the last couple of years
and we welcome them to Freerange for their debut EP entitled Indecision. The title track sets the mood with a low-slung, super-deep house groove complete
with an intimate vocal and a charming simplicity which contributes to the powerful end result. Elements come into focus then disappear in a fog of reverb whilst playful guitar picks add a live jammed feel to the loping groove giving things a Bob Moses/Francis Harris kind of vibe. Next up is Justin's own Dub version which steers a similar course but focuses on
a more floor-friendly arrangement and minimal vocals.
Flipping over we have Giegling and White regular Edward taking the reigns and working his magic on an incredible, epic remix of Indecision. Those who follow his every move as we do here at Freerange might have some idea of what to expect.
The result is a glorious, almost ten minute long fusion of ambient, dub techno and deep, sub-aquatic house to lose your marbles to. It's fairly pointless trying to describe the delicate twists, turns and subtle details that make up this piece, suffice to say, it's the kind of track that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Closing the digital release we have a bonus track in the form of I See You. Once again, Justin and Ulf have created a heady mix of delicate vocals, dubby atmospherics and a crisp beats which drive the groove along perfectly.

Freerange welcomes Italian via Berlin producer/DJ/label boss Enzo Elia for his debut on the label entitled The Lost Guitar Tapes. Enzo is someone who has been releasing consistently great music for many years, although
often hidden behind a myriad of pseudonyms and underground imprints. For starters he's responsible for a mysterious yet established and very excellent edits label as well as being a member of Balearic Gabba Sound System alongside Bjorn Torske amongst others. Following the philosophy of this collective, Enzo is also producing lovingly and respectfully created re-edits of long lost techno and house tracks as well as many new tunes
for influential labels including Golf Channel and Compost.
But for now we turn to The Lost Guitar Tapes and specifically the original mix of Drifting which opens up the release with a brilliant tension builder. A rolling bassline, crisp minimal drums and a subtly Middle Eastern-influenced melodic line give just a hint of mysticism to this jewel of a track.
For the remix we have none other than the Tel Aviv via Berlin producer Moscoman, fresh from his brilliant debut LP on ESP Institute and releases on Eskimo and his own Disco Halal label. Moscoman's organic, percussion- heavy sound and Middle Eastern roots make him the perfect choice to take
on Drifting and we couldn't have wished for a better outcome. He manages to inject his own identity to the track with newly recorded live guitar and bass parts and taking in elements of techno, new wave and house, he's created a sublime piece of dancefloor drama. Finally we have an alternate Dub version which lays down a firmer four on the floor, extra percussion and dubby stabs for a more driving atmospheric club tool.