quête:just cris

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.

'Welcome to Hotel Heaven' is a fresh start for is George van den Broek, a young man with an old soul and the voice to match. His music as Yellow Days fittingly, feels both of his era and completely other: a woozy mixture of soul, blues, psych, and groove leaking through the walls of a jazz lounge that's come unstuck in time. A self-taught multi-instrumentalist, George has never fit into one style or space. Despite George being an old soul — he hates social media, loves vinyl, and collects old cameras — Yellow Days really is a project about youth and modernity: “Hotel Heaven represents fake comfort in all its forms, this whole bullshit idea of luxury where nothing is real,” explains George. “There are so many young people who are living that kind of life. Because of the cost of living crisis, people are spending all they’ve got on a bag of white powder just to make them feel nice. Their jaws are still swinging at four o’clock in the morning, but they’re not saying anything. I wanted to write about these people and everything that is happening right now. This TikTok age where everyone wants to be famous. It’s also a big 360 of my life and career to date. I wanted to get away from everything I’d done before, wash my face and start afresh.” - Yellow Days

Larry June & prolific producer Cardo have joined forces once again to bring you their latest masterpiece: "The Night Shift," a nocturnal adventure that takes you on a ride through the vivid and pulsating streets of Larry's life, as brought to life by Cardo's distinctive production. Larry June, the San Francisco native known for his smooth, laid-back flow and his unwavering commitment to living a healthy and prosperous lifestyle, seamlessly blends his distinctive style with Cardo's signature production, creating a sound that's as crisp and refreshing as a glass of cold-pressed orange juice. "The Night Shift" is the soundtrack to those late-night drives, providing the perfect backdrop for contemplation and cruising. "The Night Shift" is more than just an album; it's a testament to the chemistry between Larry June and Cardo, two artists at the top of their game. This project is a reminder that, in the still of the night, when the city's lights are aglow, and the world is asleep, Larry June and Cardo are hard at work, crafting music that transcends time and place.

Daga Voladora's last album came out in 2016. To alleviate such a long wait, only a couple of celebrated singles. Now, finally, Cristina Plaza (identity gracefully hidden under the Daga Voladora name that was before Gran Aparato Eléctrico and also a quarter of Los Eterno and half of Clovis) releases an album and does it, for the first time, in vinyl format. "Los manantiales" is the title of the happy and long-awaited return of an artist that never completely left.

"Los manantiales" ("The Springs") refers to all those sources from which I drink to make my songs: Stereolab, Broadcast, Galaxie 500, Cate Le Bon... And also some of the flamenco language. Flamenco in my own way, of course," explains Plaza. "Los manantiales" will also bring echoes of acts that the artist has not practiced as much such as Esclarecidos, Vainica Doble, Ana D or Kikí d'Akí. Deep voices for songs with substance.

But there is also that other idea of the spring that gushes forth when it can no longer be contained. "It has taken me so many years to make this album because I had a prejudice related to the previous one "Primer segundo" in which there was a coherence. Not finding that concept or thinking that this or that wasn't Daga Voladora, I couldn't get into it. Until I decided that maybe I didn't have to impose such a rigid direction on myself..."

Sketched in a town bordering Ávila where Plaza decided to get lost in the summer of 2022 and then finished off in a basement in Madrid for several months, the nine songs of "Los manantiales" make up a short album, premeditatedly short ("I don't like the songs to be longer than 2:50") but, above all, varied. Because, as can be sensed in the song Quise ser ( "I wanted to be a fictional hero, an expressionist painter, a promising actress"), here are all the imagined Cristinas and their different lives ("The song Lejos de la multitud is that longing of mine to be a vagabond"), an unmistakable sign that, as the artist confesses, "I am my own spring". And all this joyful dispersion comes from the premise with which Plaza approached the album: "I said to myself: 'Let's play'. I set out to have a good time. Suddenly, I wanted to do a dub track and I came up with Fosforito or a rock song like Lou Reed in the 80s and there was 'Me vi penando'. I wanted a rock record, an experimental record, something like Broadcast, and a musical! I wanted to do a thousand things!"

The result is a playful album, very enjoyable; but above all elegant and extremely precise. In both form and substance. Thus, the melodies are so rounded at first listen; the music would work perfectly on its own, stripped of lyrics that respond to the maxim, so often ignored, that there is really only one way to say things. "I have tried to refine the texts a lot. There are some phrases taken from Steinbeck, other things that emerge in a somewhat magical way. There's also Gary Snyder, Kerouac and his Dharma Bums, echoes of California..."

It's an album made, as usual with her, in the most absolute solitude (except for the collaboration of Andrés Arregui on sax and the final mix by Fino Oyonarte). Bareback. "I recorded everything with my computer, with my instruments, my analog keyboards, my rhythm boxes, little noises I make around... I don't make demos. I just do it. In a rough way. What I do do is repeat. The good thing about this method is that many things happen spontaneously and that's where they stay".

An album that, for all of the above, responds to the best notion of caprice. A whimsical whim, signed and finished off by the splendid cover designed by Beatriz Lobo, which feartures a painting ('La chica del King Creole') by the legendary artist Javier de Juan.

In "Los manantiales" there are many possible worlds, as many dreamed ones. Of course, those of Daga Voladora (not in vain, the album opens with a song titled Cristinópolis), but also those of any curious and sensitive listener who, by the way, will find more than one musical wink along the way. You just have to be attentive.

Tyler Pope's latest EP is an absolute belter, and the primary concern these four tracks are asking of you is right up front: Pay Attention to the Bass. And, honestly, with a sense low-end like what's on display here, how could you not? This new release from Pope-a dance veteran who's also known as a full-time member of LCD Soundsystem as well as a collaborator with artists like Hercules & Love Affair and Pantha Du Prince-arrives on his always eclectic Interference Pattern label, an imprint that has previously spanned left-field electronic sounds, noise rock, and avant-R&B. As such, Pay Attention to the Bass is anything but straightforward, with ricocheting rhythms and alluring textures that are as easy to get lost in as they are to move your body to.

Listeners familiar with last year's Make Each Other Happy EP, which embraced dark disco grooves and crisp percussion, will be delighted at the new curveballs on display here: "Why Must I" euphorically merges the propulsive charge of UK funky with delicious piano-house stabs, while "OKay" anchors itself around a rubbery bass line like a lost cut from the Remain In Light sessions. The flip side gets dark and dank with it, as "Close the Door" echoes with spooky clatter and dubby wobbles before sprightly vibes break through-and the closing cut "Where r they Hiding" goes full-on tunnel techno with it, conjuring a mood that recalls the haunted house music of Sandwell District as well as the cold-sweat futuristic visions of jungle. With Pay Attention to the Bass, Pope expands his sound wider than ever, and it just so happens that it's an absolute blast to listen to as well.

Sully returns to Astrophonica for a celestial collaboration with young Manchester based vocalist Salo.

Always one step ahead of the pack, Sully relinquishes the signature crusty Jungle breaks in exchange for crisp and steely, live sounding drums to provide the groove for a stripped back and crushed 808 bassline - a hi-def take on his iconic sound. This minimalist structure gives the foundations and space for Salo’s bittersweet vocals to take the lead with clarity and float off into the glorious twilight. A celestial collaboration that spotlights both artists’ strong points.

Sully totally flips the script with the ‘Not Just a Dub Mix’ by taking Salo’s vocals and giving them the Tubby treatment. The Jungle breaks return and sirens ring out - one for the club Salo, born in Tbilisi, Georgia before moving to Manchester via Glasgow as a child, is a classically trained pianist with all the swagger and charm of Manchester club music. She studied at Glasgow Music Academy and Royal Northern College of Music before working with club legends such as Zed Bias, Chimpo and Bassboy.

This is Sully’s first return to the label since 2020’s seminal, highly requested and repressed Swandive EP. At this point he honestly needs little introduction - he’s become one of the highest selling and most sought after Jungle artists for the best part of a decade and shows no signs of stopping

“But into my miserable brain, always concerned with looking for noon at two o’clock" - Charles Baudelaire (1869)

The Foreign Department is the second album by Astrel K, the solo project helmed by Stockholm-based British ex-pat, Rhys Edwards. Those already familiar with Edwards’ work will likely know him for fronting the cultishly great Ulrika Spacek, and given he operates as the principal songwriter in both projects, much of the same hallmarks of his cathartic, elliptical songwriting are present in Astrel K. Nonetheless, The Foreign Department feels like a rubicon moment of sorts, and the album that Edwards has unconsciously been working towards his entire creative life.

As a title, The Foreign Department offers an instructive guide for the listener, framing a life-in-transition/artist-in-exile document that maps two impromptu moves in twelve months for its songwriter: the first from London in pursuit of a relationship, the second between homes in Stockholm as that decade long relationship then suddenly dissolved. Indeed, diffusion, dissolution and reconstitution feel like appropriate touchstones for its recurring themes. Written amidst the flux of two states, at once isolated from home and then any established emotional anchor, the resulting eleven tracks came to represent a precognitive search for shifting identity and with it forming an unwittingly biographical record. It's commendable and somewhat telling that during this shake up, Edwards somehow landed upon his most realised and original work.

With a former life stripped away, there emerged an opportunity to reinvent a sense of self through art, now not just as a writer, but a composer also. Developing the confidence to arrange songs in ways he'd previously considered off-limits, while also taking cues from the opulent string and brass arrangements of records like Mercury Rev's Deserters' Songs and Death of A Ladies Man by Leonard Cohen, Edwards enlisted a range of performers to bring to life the mini-symphonies forming in his head. Perhaps it's inevitable that an album written while facing the consequences of being alone would eventually ossify around the process of bringing people together.

For all its troubled origins, The Foreign Department is a remarkably warm sounding collection. Edwards' lyrics are typically knotty and neurotic, dancing around the poetry of quarter-life anxiety, but the music itself is often joyous and even uplifting, the combination expressing that neat duality of melancholic euphoria. Edwards sings variously of crises, "torrid pieces of art", of "houses on fire" and not "having the guts for it", yet these troubling sentiments are framed by seemingly incongruous swelling strings, chirping horns or motorik percussion, creating that sense of pushing forward or floating above, of wrapping your troubles in dreams, a salve for the moments when you get a bit too much for yourself.

Lead single, 'Darkness At Noon', likely captures this all best. Named for the French idiom "midi a quatorze heures", the maddening idea of attempting the impossible for the sake of some greater possibly pointless cause, it directly grapples with the opposing notions of wanting and not wanting, of being here and being there at the same time. The conflicting and impossible self. It’s something Edwards addresses in the song at perhaps his most open, opining, “I know I want to be seen, but I hate most of what comes out of me”. And yet here is, putting it all out in the open and on the line, the dialectics of his enlightenment up on show.

Soft Walls is the solo recording project of Dan Reeves, who has spent his entire adult life kicking around in the dust of the UK's underground music scenes. Cutting his teeth in the South West's post-hardcore scene; centred around Exeter's The Cavern club, before moving to the South East and forming his own record label; Faux Discx, and the propulsive post-punk band: Brighton via London's Cold Pumas. Projects have come and gone over the years, but Reeves' Soft Walls has remained, an outlet for whatever musical whim takes his fancy.

'True Love' is Soft Walls' 4th album. Written and recorded at home, during breaks in work. During the aftermath of you-know-what.

For this album Dan leaned heavily in to his guitar playing, searching for those purest moments of true emotion and connection. Aiming to strike an instant blow. "Emotional guitar music. But not Emo." The result of falling in love with an instrument again and playing for the joy of it, much like he did as a teenager. Just older, wiser(?) and certainly more world-weary / teary-eyed.

Thematically, 'True Love' revels in stating its love for everything that is dear to Reeves. Odes to marriage, romance, unconditional love, parenthood and creativity pierce through the record's down-swings that tackle existential crisis and the feeling of falling in to depression. Each song attempts to encapsulate a vivid feeling, be it positive or negative. It's all part of a life worth living.

Although recorded at home, this album marks a leap in to digital mid-fidelity for Soft Walls, embracing a wider, richer sound beyond the tape hiss of earlier releases. That same spirt is still in the mix, but is presented wide-eyed and caffeinated in to clarity. Elevated by the input of a handful of collaborators contributing to the performances and helping to shape it sonically, 'True Love' ends up being the truest version of Soft Walls committed to (digital) tape thus far.

The cinematic opening track Inthenever starts off as a film >> somewhere on a desolate coast, where everything has already ceased. This is going to be an album with a story and depth, a fearless tour of the barren shores of our days // or is it possibly just a mirage conclusion of their razor-sharp sound brutalism? Tittingur's third album, Epiphany, is here, pounding with waves they had not done before.

It seems as though this dyad has disposed of all the genre confines that had locked them in, and have grasped the sound of new subject matters, for which the moniker of experimental techno is finally too narrow. With utter urgency and candid to their emblematic, thunderous sound, Dominik's and Matus's deafening mallets collide in beats which are now, more than ever, drenched in a mass of palpable gloom and anguish. As though we could touch the rising levels of the oceans, and smell the melting of the glaciers themselves.

In one way or another, the music of Tittingur has always been about nature, its fierce essence, and its stark contrast with the post-era that we have found ourselves living in. However, whereas before, it was the sound of old, weather-stained concrete, and the pounding of abandoned, overgrown buildings, now it is, unavoidably, their most direct and honest return to nature landscapes, and to human, age-old traditions, referenced in the Slovak folk motives, recordings and found sounds.

On Epiphany, Tittingur's sound becomes yet more abstract, in a sound world that is ambiguous but also unified, and works on its own. The duality of nature and technology, of inland human folklore and the trenches of deepest oceans, invite us to come closer and observe the volatile obliteration taking place. Can we even attempt to re-assess our position with nature, or is this whole experiment doomed to fail?

Unsurprisingly, in the echoes, all the ingredients of the classic Tittingur sound are still present, distilled into new forms >> the ever-present over-saturation, the exaggerated, maximalist approach and megalomania >> the sound of impending climate change, doom, and near-apocalyptic visions, the scent of borovička mixed with the wild North Sea, the agony of contemporary urban life, and the adventure of wilderness: ferocious synths, monumental beats, aggressive basslines and crumbling noise-scapes built of a found-sound, music concréte-like, collagist approach.

At moments, it seems the means have changed. Just until you realise that the sentences of this story are spoken in a new language. If you dive deep enough, and listen to the essence that the music of Tittingur articulates, it's surprisingly easy to understand >> although the notions and emotions are difficult to put into words. The profound narrative of Epiphany is that of an endless inner struggle of society, anxiety, crises, and ambiguously easy // difficult solutions in the post-modern global chaos. It is the calm before a storm. It is the storm. Is it the calm. It is all of it, in itself. credits

It’s a family affair. One formed almost thirty years ago, back in the mid-nineties, when the pair joined seminal French jazz combo Olympic Grammofon. For twenty-four years they have worked together as Bumcello, each complementing the other, echoing polar opposites. The Boom in Bumcello is none other than Cyril Atef, incisive drummer, relentlessly pushing beats towards new horizons. The Cello is Vincent Ségal, cellist without blinkers and extraordinary musical alchemist. Since 1999, these two die-hard music fans, coming together for mercurial results, have released one record after the other whilst conquering the hearts of their live audiences, old regulars as well as new recruits. We have all been seduced by the way their music leapfrogs categories - these two experts are much more interested in kindred spirits than pigeonholing, and this very spirit is celebrated on more than one track of this ninth record, whose concept is original to say the least.

Everything began with an idea by Cyril Atef - a soundtrack based upon drawings penned by Marin, Vincent’s son, architect and visual artist. The musicians involved then coached their reaction to these images on a score, and the pair were charged with collating and adjusting the results. These thirteen ink drawings, in a heroic fantasy vein, constituted a matrix which was then to serve as a guide, like a roadmap through a singular and multi-faceted labyrinth. The key to this sonic fresco is in Bumcello’s image – an eclectic aesthetic twinned with a great sense of contrast. Herein lies the trademark of this entity animated by the gift of musical ubiquity, gorged on scales and rhythms, capable of a slap as much as a gentle caress. From classical music to electronics, from improvised music to sophisti-pop, everything is allowed with no preconceived ideas. They can even reclaim the traditions of others, all the better to propel them towards new horizons - this is how the very history of music has always panned out.

If you listen between the lines and look at the details, more than one piece bears witness to the moments and individuals that have impacted the criss-crossing lives of Vincent and Cyril. The track Crash is the perfect excuse to create a Jamaican-style jam with New York inflections, and we can see, in capital letters, the name Hilaire Penda, playing alongside Bumcello at the Apollo Theater in the associated drawing. This bass player from Cameroon, who died on 5th November 2018, was more than just a friend for the two Frenchmen. He was one of the family. Similarly, they give a nod to another Cameroonian, and another departed friend - singer of rock band les Têtes brûlées, Zanzibar, through the vocals of fellow countryman Zanzi. The ghost of Rémi Kolpa Kopul, emblematic voice of Radio Nova, haunts the margins of Spark Av, in a vocal sample with a smattering of effects. As for I Remember Tim, it directly honours the memory of Timothy Jerome Parker, aka The Gift Of Gab, another friend who left us in 2021. Tim is depicted in a drawing with the docks of Oakland in the background, and it’s his alter ego within Blackalicious, Chief Xcel, who remotely added his signature to the track, notably by adding the words of Lateef The Truthspeaker to brass and woodwind sounds.

These are the only additions to Bumcello’s original nucleus, all the better to create a genuine musical concoction where Vincent Taurelle is in charge of production and mixing sessions recorded live and direct. He is also invited for a twinkle on the keys (piano, synths, Wurlitzer, organ), on a handful of tracks. Already at the commands of previous opus Monster Talk, always taking care over the slightest detail, the one that makes all the difference, this pianist is now also part of the family. “Everything he brings is perfect, whether added though slight touches or through very important choices”, say the two members of a combo which today, appears to us under the guise of a trio, adding an extra dimension to a far-reaching mix, in the image of the veiled or more explicit tributes making up the cornerstones of this release.

Booker, a drawing where we see the musicians enter a club, honours James Booker, great pianist from New Orleans who has always fascinated Vincent, in a genre that is off-beat and gender defying. Her Story was created by Cyril in support of the Iranian women’s movement. Aysyen Kampe evokes, even in the original drawing, a tradition that remains impactful for Bumcello – Haitian mysticism, and Ouï Khouïette Ouï conjures up the beats of the Allaoui, a war dance from Western Algeria, one they have taken part in in the past with the help of Cheikha Rabia. They deliver a metal version, original and surprising, especially as Marin Ségal’s drawing features the Nicholas Brothers, those iconic dancers of the 30s jazz scene!

Resolutely hard to pin down, Bumcello’s beats can initially take on the structure of disjointed house, though Sangre begins like a film soundtrack, “in a Mexican style” adds Vincent, who was at the origin of this track. A delicate alap on the cello can open up onto afrobeat rhythms, a well-pitched voice can enchant, like on the amazing The City Has Eyes which has everything of a hummable pop hit. Emblematic of this manner of encompassing all music without being exclusive, Le Grand Sommeil, a direct reference to the Howard Hawks movie inspired by Raymond Chandler, a precursor of David Lynch, begins nice and smooth but ends on a wild tempo, on a drum’n’bass tip, as in the good old days of Cithéa, when this Party story began in the other century.

Warehouse find!

With '100% Dope' we find Central Processing Unit bringing up their hundredth catalogue number, and you'd struggle to find a more fitting artist to ring in a century of releases for the label than Cygnus. The one born Phillip Washington has been with CPU since the very beginning, his 2012 LP 'Newmark Phase' representing the first record ever released on the imprint. That album's combination of textured techno and grizzly Drexciyan electro set the tone for CPU perfectly, and it's no surprise that Cygnus has returned to the Sheffield imprint several times down the years.

While '100% Dope' is an expert demonstration of what Cygnus and CPU do, this EP also shows just how much both artist and label have grown over the past nine years. At its heart '100% Dope' is a set of prime machine-funk from a master of the form, but these are also some of the most daring and innovative tracks that Cygnus has ever produced.

Take opening cut 'Bad RGB Controller'. In the undulating synth lines we have a ghost of grime as well as Drexciyan drive, and as such the track reminds one as much of Mr. Mitch or Last Japan as it does, say, Dopplereffekt. Furthermore, 'Bad RGB Controller' shifts gear around the halfway mark into a highwire electronica mode which has the wit and spark of prime Bogdan Raczynski. Entries like 'Float Back To The Surface' are similarly unpredictable. There's some lovely industrial techno bite to this one - the snare drum will echo in your head long after the party's died down - but Cygnus periodically pulls out the rug from underneath us with passages of impressionistic texture that almost border on sound art.

'Float Back To The Surface' is one of a trio of vocoder-led jams here. On 'Throwing Shade' we hear I-F and Egyptian Lover, with Cygnus' vocals clattering around like pronouncements from some funked-out robot overlord atop hissing-piston drums. Then there's the enticingly-titled 'CPU Records'. 'CPU Records' delivers all the crisp electro snap we've come to expect from a record emblazoned with that signature black-and-white artwork, yet this thing is also widescreen and cinematic in ways that demonstrate the maturation of the Cygnus sound. With a wicked vocoder vocal that celebrates the label's many achievements, 'CPU Records' is a victory lap tune if ever we've heard one.

Central Processing Unit keep it 100 on for this new EP. '100% Dope' by Cygnus is CPU's 100th catalogue number, and the Texan producer delivers on the promise of the record's title with a collection of brilliantly unique electro joints.

High Vis were formed in 2016 from the ashes of some of the UK's best hardcore bands. Gild-toothed frontman Graham Sayle's anguished lyrics about life in working class Britain were familiar to fans of Tremors' full-throttle thrash, but alongside his former bandmate Edward `Ski' Harper and veterans of Dirty Money, DiE and The Smear, High Vis sought to transform that energy and intensity into something entirely new.Like scene-mates Chubby and the Gang did by pulling in unlikely source material from classic doo-wop or Micromoon have by combining everything from psychedelia and metal into their high potency mix, High Vis' 2019 debut album, No Sense No Feeling showed the band were never going to be constrained by any sense of genre rules or regulations. Its claustrophobic rattle bore traces of Joy Division, Bauhaus, Crisis, The Cure and Gang Of Four lurking in the shadows. 2020's synth-driven EP, Society Exists, was further evidence of the band's restless creative MO.High Vis' second album Blending sees them open their viewfinder wider than ever before. Alongside longstanding favourites such as Fugazi and Echo and The Bunnymen; Ride and even Flock Of Seagulls were shared reference points as the band worked on the album together.From the anthemic sweep of opener "Talk For Hours", through the title track's psychedelic swirl and "Fever Dream"'s baggy groove, it sees High Vis' sound blossoming into something with an unlimited richness. The hazy drift of "Shame" or the melodic jangle of "Trauma Bonds" may take them until uncharted waters, but they still have all the power and bite that made No Sense No Feeling so remarkable.Lyrically, the album represents another leap forward too. Talking frankly about poverty, class politics, and the challenges of everyday life, Sayle's lyrics have always addressed the downtrodden and discarded communities across Britain slipping below the waterline. This time around, Sayle's lost not of that social consciousness, but he's looked at himself and his own emotional landscape, and in the process created something that feels more universal, that reaches a hand-out to people and ultimately gives a message of hope."To me, the lyrics are less selfish," reflects Sayle. "In the past, I couldn't see past whatever was going on with me. It's about accepting things and being open to conversations and learning to talk to people rather than just thinking that we're all doomed."The song "Talk for Hours" is a prime example of that. Born out of an afternoon meeting up with an old group of mates "repeating the same thing and not actually learning anything about each other" it offers to actually break the cycle and to listen and speak frankly about shared feelings and experiences. "Trauma Bonds", meanwhile, traces the broken lines of those living in lost communities, but ultimately realises that despite our shared scars, there's still hope to move on to a better future."The message of the album is you're not who you're told you are," Sayle summarises. "You're not your class background. Whatever it is, you're not that. Don't resign yourself to thinking you can't be this and you can't be that."It's a vitally important message right now, and one that could be the motto for not only Blending, but for High Vis themselves.

High Vis were formed in 2016 from the ashes of some of the UK's best hardcore bands. Gild-toothed frontman Graham Sayle's anguished lyrics about life in working class Britain were familiar to fans of Tremors' full-throttle thrash, but alongside his former bandmate Edward `Ski' Harper and veterans of Dirty Money, DiE and The Smear, High Vis sought to transform that energy and intensity into something entirely new.Like scene-mates Chubby and the Gang did by pulling in unlikely source material from classic doo-wop or Micromoon have by combining everything from psychedelia and metal into their high potency mix, High Vis' 2019 debut album, No Sense No Feeling showed the band were never going to be constrained by any sense of genre rules or regulations. Its claustrophobic rattle bore traces of Joy Division, Bauhaus, Crisis, The Cure and Gang Of Four lurking in the shadows. 2020's synth-driven EP, Society Exists, was further evidence of the band's restless creative MO.High Vis' second album Blending sees them open their viewfinder wider than ever before. Alongside longstanding favourites such as Fugazi and Echo and The Bunnymen; Ride and even Flock Of Seagulls were shared reference points as the band worked on the album together.From the anthemic sweep of opener "Talk For Hours", through the title track's psychedelic swirl and "Fever Dream"'s baggy groove, it sees High Vis' sound blossoming into something with an unlimited richness. The hazy drift of "Shame" or the melodic jangle of "Trauma Bonds" may take them until uncharted waters, but they still have all the power and bite that made No Sense No Feeling so remarkable.Lyrically, the album represents another leap forward too. Talking frankly about poverty, class politics, and the challenges of everyday life, Sayle's lyrics have always addressed the downtrodden and discarded communities across Britain slipping below the waterline. This time around, Sayle's lost not of that social consciousness, but he's looked at himself and his own emotional landscape, and in the process created something that feels more universal, that reaches a hand-out to people and ultimately gives a message of hope."To me, the lyrics are less selfish," reflects Sayle. "In the past, I couldn't see past whatever was going on with me. It's about accepting things and being open to conversations and learning to talk to people rather than just thinking that we're all doomed."The song "Talk for Hours" is a prime example of that. Born out of an afternoon meeting up with an old group of mates "repeating the same thing and not actually learning anything about each other" it offers to actually break the cycle and to listen and speak frankly about shared feelings and experiences. "Trauma Bonds", meanwhile, traces the broken lines of those living in lost communities, but ultimately realises that despite our shared scars, there's still hope to move on to a better future."The message of the album is you're not who you're told you are," Sayle summarises. "You're not your class background. Whatever it is, you're not that. Don't resign yourself to thinking you can't be this and you can't be that."It's a vitally important message right now, and one that could be the motto for not only Blending, but for High Vis themselves.

Following up his anthemic late-summer burner, Hope, Credit 00 returns to Pinkman to deliver the album Midnightlife Crisis. Hopping between genres whilst remaining resolutely coherent, the twelve-track double LP is a showcase of the Rat Life boss' many influences. From the driving, mesmeric techno of Music Is A Spiritual Thing to the sci-fi electro on Bouncing Bell and Love Warrior's downtempo, half-time shuffle, the collection of tracks is broad and varied yet simultaneously unified by belonging to the club. Whether it's warm-up material, peaktime rollers or afterhours sludge for tired legs and scrambled heads, there's something for every scenario on Midnightlife Crisis. And with recurring themes of melancholy and anxiety throughout, the album perhaps reflects that all too familiar period for every club enthusiast when the years are ticking by and the lights are coming on. "I just hope there's hope", sings the voice on the album's lead single, before reminding us that the dancefloor's sweet release is often the best remedy to these negative thoughts - "I see you shaking on the floor, that gives me hope, gives me hope."

On Side A, smile your way through two songs by The Teacher Haters — in fact, we challenge you to get through these tracks without smiling. Even the name of the band invokes a chuckle as it suggests what these guys are about — and that’s the P-A-R-T-Y. Straight out of the 60s comes a group that could have been played with Sam The Sham & The Pharaohs back in the day. These whimsical works are deceptively deep as they take us to a time when garage punk fused with R&B.

Big Pig Alley is uncomplicated, and that’s what makes it great — it sounds like a bunch of college guys having a good time, writing lyrics on the spot: “If you’re lookin’ for romance, take a train, take a plane...or a raft to France.” The guys have something other than romance on their minds as they chug along on acoustic guitar and trash can drums (and possibly other things). What really makes the track, though, is the witchy background voice — the performance is loose enough, while the witch is doing his own thing entirely.

The witch returns on the second track on Side 1 in the up-tempo, dance-ready Cut Loose. No obscure artistry here — these guys tell you exactly what the song is for in the title. In fact, just in case you missed it, they state their thesis in the opening lines: “I wanna shake all night, I wanna do it right, I wanna dance, dance, dance with you…” All of their collegiate effort is put toward getting you to move your hips in this groovy, rockabilly-flavored mix.

Let's talk about Side B...

We Got A Thing is up first — a crossover soul dancer that invites you to sing along with an infectious, call-and-response chorus. It pairs nicely with The Teacher Haters as fun, simple party music from the 60s — though this time from a female perspective.

Things go deeper with Guys Today. As the name suggests, the content is about the enduring tension between the sexes and the heartbreak it can lead to. It’s a deep soul beat ballad in the vein of Betty Wright or Helene Smith. A grand opening is followed by a clear, crisp female vocal that brings the singer’s lament into focus. The band is tight, and it all comes together to portray a woman who has made up her mind and is offering a warning about guys today: I know you love your man, but I know they will hurt you in every way they can.

At first glance, these artists seem to share only a few things in common — party-themed music conceived in the 60s with an R&B flavor. But between sides A and B, it feels like these groups are talking to each other — perhaps different perspectives of the same party. Perhaps the party itself and then the fallout. The result is a balanced EP release that feels whole and satisfying. We hope you feel the same as we proudly present these found recordings as an exclusive 12” on 180 gram vinyl. Please enjoy.

Svart Records are proud to present the vinyl debut of the album '8 Convulsions' (1994) by Crisis (NYC, USA) "I am really glad that Svart are re-releasing 8 Convulsions, so more people can rediscover this wonderful and intriguing heavy music." Michel 'Away' Langevin, Voivod Remastered and repackaged with the vinyl format in mind, the package comes with a large booklet full of lyrics and exclusive photos. This is the first time an album from the NYC cult band's oeuvre is pressed on vinyl. There will also be a CD edition of the remaster. Hailing from the mean streets of NYC in the year 1993, Crisis was a band that defied classification from the very start. During a time when heavy music was dominated by a mostly male presence, founders Afzaal Deen and original drummer Fred Waring envisioned a female-fronted band to run against the grain and destroy expectations. Seeking out a singer with a singular sound and presence, and found their match in groundbreaking vocalist and avant-visual artist Karyn Crisis. Soon after, a newspaper ad for a bass player was answered by Gia Chuan Wang and the original unit was formed. During their first rehearsal, Karyn became so enmeshed and driven by the music that she inadvertently destroyed a microphone stand and threw herself to the floor in an outpouring of unmitigated expression. This was barely a hint at the intensity she would soon bring to the stage and studio. Karyn’s guttural growls and angelic melodic notes meshed perfectly with the mixture of grinding guitar, pounding rhythm and deep bass tones. The underground music scene would now begin to experience the dynamic intensity of this burgeoning powerhouse band in full force. Crisis signed to Too Damn Hype records and released their debut album '8 Convulsions', now being reissued to mark its 30th anniversary. In a time where inclusivity is more crucial than ever, Crisis remains a band as diverse and distinct as the city from which they originally hailed. “The United Nations of Rock” as they’ve been called, continue to break boundaries and crush antiquated archetypes with their unprecedented sound and vision. "One of the most captivating bands I’ve ever experienced in New York City in the early 90s. They had a very unique sound where you couldn’t categorize them though they had elements of metal, punk with a very dark experimental approach, which gave them their unique sound. Just raw and relentless energy." Roy Mayorga, Ministry/Soulfly/Nausea etc 8 Convulsions is available on Svart exclusive blue/red marble vinyl, limited transparent yellow vinyl, classic black vinyl, and CD. Release date October 20th.

Svart Records are proud to present the vinyl debut of the album '8 Convulsions' (1994) by Crisis (NYC, USA) "I am really glad that Svart are re-releasing 8 Convulsions, so more people can rediscover this wonderful and intriguing heavy music." Michel 'Away' Langevin, Voivod Remastered and repackaged with the vinyl format in mind, the package comes with a large booklet full of lyrics and exclusive photos. This is the first time an album from the NYC cult band's oeuvre is pressed on vinyl. There will also be a CD edition of the remaster. Hailing from the mean streets of NYC in the year 1993, Crisis was a band that defied classification from the very start. During a time when heavy music was dominated by a mostly male presence, founders Afzaal Deen and original drummer Fred Waring envisioned a female-fronted band to run against the grain and destroy expectations. Seeking out a singer with a singular sound and presence, and found their match in groundbreaking vocalist and avant-visual artist Karyn Crisis. Soon after, a newspaper ad for a bass player was answered by Gia Chuan Wang and the original unit was formed. During their first rehearsal, Karyn became so enmeshed and driven by the music that she inadvertently destroyed a microphone stand and threw herself to the floor in an outpouring of unmitigated expression. This was barely a hint at the intensity she would soon bring to the stage and studio. Karyn’s guttural growls and angelic melodic notes meshed perfectly with the mixture of grinding guitar, pounding rhythm and deep bass tones. The underground music scene would now begin to experience the dynamic intensity of this burgeoning powerhouse band in full force. Crisis signed to Too Damn Hype records and released their debut album '8 Convulsions', now being reissued to mark its 30th anniversary. In a time where inclusivity is more crucial than ever, Crisis remains a band as diverse and distinct as the city from which they originally hailed. “The United Nations of Rock” as they’ve been called, continue to break boundaries and crush antiquated archetypes with their unprecedented sound and vision. "One of the most captivating bands I’ve ever experienced in New York City in the early 90s. They had a very unique sound where you couldn’t categorize them though they had elements of metal, punk with a very dark experimental approach, which gave them their unique sound. Just raw and relentless energy." Roy Mayorga, Ministry/Soulfly/Nausea etc 8 Convulsions is available on Svart exclusive blue/red marble vinyl, limited transparent yellow vinyl, classic black vinyl, and CD. Release date October 20th.

Flora Yin Wong’s ravishing interiority finds lucid expression on an absorbing second album for Modern Love, manifesting her instrumental storytelling in a syncretic bind of supernatural themes with hyperrealist, concrète sound design.

Through ten parts, Flora crystallises the ennui that followed an uncanny, disorienting trip to East and Southeast Asia. “On an unexpected stopover in Hong Kong after five years away, my friends took me to a Bazi reader one night - something I was curious about, but much of a ritual for them - ” Flora recalls. “My father told me that when I was born, he had obtained an auspicious reading that since stayed like a guiding talisman with me. It was almost past midnight but people were still lined up, rather shaken and visibly upset, to see the old man. He had kind eyes and asked me why I was there and I said I was at a crossroads. He asked me my time and date of birth, and told me to pick one of his four little white canary birds as a vessel for divination.”

This was the final stretch of an ultimately aimless few months across the continent, including a 20 year overdue return with her father to his adoptive family in his hometown Kuala Lumpur - for many reasons, ended up as a strange and uncanny trip. She spent solitude in a haunted house during the quiet snowfall of Kyoto, where she might have offended some spirit... and nights in mountain temples with South Korean monks, and an equally strange feeling return to the Island of the Gods.

“It culminated in what felt like a final disillusionment with Asia - sudden deaths and a breakdown in beliefs - somewhere I never really have or will be able to connect with. The process of the reading summoned a final blow to my gut - an overwhelming sense of rootlessness, and understanding that all there is is emptiness and entropy. No birth-divined protection, just a measurement of the night sky based off nothing and everything.”

Heavy with a sense of nightmarish dissociation and grief, Flora read about Giuseppe Tartini’s ‘Violin Sonata in G Minor’, aka the Devil’s Trill Sonata, a notoriously tricky c.18th composition which attempted to transcribe music heard in a dream, which the composer felt he could never fully bring into reality. It’s this soporific motif that binds and underpins ’Cold Reading’, finding Flora chasing the dragon of fleeting fantasy through passages of etched melancholy, pinched with hypnagogic jerks that linger in the memory.

From her use of the ‘Devil’s Trill’ Sonata in ‘All My Dreams are Nightmares’ through evocations of subtropical humidity in the Bryn Jones-esque, resonant hand-played percussion of ‘Konna’ and ‘Banjar’, to a breathtaking dreampop denouement ‘Nectar Dripping’ and the Enya-like lush of ‘Beautiful Crisis’, Flora blooms her ideas with an openended ambiguity so often missing from so called Ambient music, ushering the listener into a soundworld that disturbs and displaces, just as much as it calms.

This live concert was recorded during Supertramp's "Crime Of The Century" tour in London's Hammersmith Odeon, on March 9, 1975. It's featuring the entire "Crime of the Century" album and also some tracks from the then still-to-be-recorded "Crisis? What Crisis?" album.

This live concert was recorded during Supertramp's "Crime Of The Century" tour in London's Hammersmith Odeon, on March 9, 1975. It's featuring the entire "Crime of the Century" album and also some tracks from the then still-to-be-recorded "Crisis? What Crisis?" album.

Here's the thing about ill peach: this band exists because they are too weird to not exist. The seed of ill peach was first planted in the recording studios of New York City where Pat Morrissey and Jess Corazza were working together as professional songwriters, collaborating with artists like Icona Pop, SZA, Weezer, Pharrell, Big Freedia, and others. Then came the day they were offered their own publishing deal. Cool, right? Well, about that: "Everyone kept saying, 'The stuff that you're writing is slightly too left-of-center-weirdo stuff," remembers Morrissey. "Why don't you start your own project?" Thus ill peach, a pop band with a punk streak and a taste for both the rotten and the sweet, with an approach to making music that goes something like: "Do you want to pick up a guitar and do you want to be on this water jug and we'll record it on the iPhone and create some weird drum pattern?" Following a series of well-received EPs on their own Pop Can Records (a record label and artist collective Morrissey and close collaborator Jesse Schuster run with friends), a digital single for Hardly Art's 15th anniversary series, and some colorful music videos that crystallized the band's visual aesthetic along with their sound, ill peach's "weirdo stuff" comes to fruition on first full-length THIS IS NOT AN EXIT: a collection of anthemic songs built out of bright pop and gritty experimental elements (Morrissey names the sculptural use of distortion on the final albums by Low as an inspiration), punctuated with hooky choruses ready to be screamed along to in the safety of your own bedroom or with a bunch of friends at one of ill peach's intense live shows. If ill peach first blossomed in New York, it took quarantine in Los Angeles for the project to ripen. The end of the world turned out to be what ill peach needed to get real with themselves. "It helped us creatively to zone in and removed us from the industry side of things to where we could just be like: this is our new identity, let's jump with both feet." THIS IS NOT AN EXIT's title is a reflection of something Corazza realized during a period of personal and familial crises "I kept walking into buildings and I'd try to exit somewhere and the sign would be like, 'This is not an exit,'" she says. "It just felt like a metaphor for a hopeful thing-don't give up yet." This combination of hope and anxiety is all over THIS IS NOT AN EXIT, reflected in a sonic palette (Alternative! Electronica! Indie! Radio pop! Coldplay!) as eclectic as it is unpretentious. Ultimately, THIS IS NOT AN EXIT is a record about healing, a process often spoken about in New Age-y terms but one that in reality can be really confusing and, yes, weird. But it is the beautiful strangeness of being alive that ill peach capture so well on THIS IS NOT AN EXIT.

Dreamers have dreamt for as long as domes have fallen, bobbing musical swells from Stephen Foster to the Everlys. Now here comes that beautiful dreamer JOSEPHINE FOSTER and, sugarpie, she's not the same. She has donned her magenta vestiments, dreaming back, with mossy verses that haunt like a name never called. It's not just Jo and her shadow, though, this time around-she's got a gaggle of Nashville cats on hand to coax spidery cathedrals from these campfire jams. Folks will want to call this her "Harvest" - with its harp and pedal steel, its double bass and cascading piano. And it's true, "I'm a Dreamer" beckons with a gentle hand, each note clear and crisp so that one feels each grain. Amid such delicate charms, however, lurk muses with rotting flesh, ugly ducklings and Djuna Barnes, wooden floors upon which no babies will be rocked. Wily is the heart that wanders filled with duende and desire, that rides the thigh like a parlor guitar when a strap just isn't handy. These are songs comfortably at home in salon or saloon, dreams deep enough to bury your dread - as sorrowful, as sexy, as stirring a set of songs as anybody's dreamt up in ages.

Run-D.M.C.'s Raising Hell remains the turning point at which hip-hop crashed through mainstream barriers and never left. Anchored by the crossover smash "Walk This Way," the 1986 blockbuster still sounds like a revolution unfolding in real time. It has everything – hard-rock riffs, turntable scratching, itchy rhythms, hit singles – not the least of which are the trio's invigorating raps and inseparable chemistry. And now it's the first rap record afforded audiophile treatment, courtesy of Mobile Fidelity.

Sourced from the original master tapes and pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl, the reissue label's numbered-edition 180g 33RPM SuperVinyl LP elevates Raising Hell to sonic heights on par with its musical and cultural significance. Ranked the 123rd Greatest Album of All Time by Rolling Stone, 43rd on Pitchfork's Greatest Albums of the 1980s, one of the Top 100 Albums of All Time by TIME – and included on "Best of" lists by Spin, Paste, XXL, Entertainment Weekly, and basically every other significant media outlet – the triple-platinum effort rocks the house.

Benefitting from the ultra-low noise floor and groove definition of SuperVinyl, Raising Hell unleashes a torrent of massive dynamics and tsunami of frequency-plumbing details underlined by Rick Rubin's taut, crisp, albeit raw and streetwise production. Just as the Queens-based group both defined what hip-hop could represent – and displayed just how big it could get – Rubin's work melded ear-worm hooks, savvy drum loops, metal-leaning guitars, and, of course, Run and D.M.C.'s cross-fire lyrical interplay into watertight frameworks bursting with ideas, tones, samples, and beats. Heard anew on Mobile Fidelity vinyl, Raising Hell is in every regard the aural equivalent of a direct-to-console 1970s classic. And it sounds as fresh as hell.

As for the music, it ranks among the most influential, inventive, and invigorating ever released – rap or otherwise. Vanguard artists such as Ice-T, Eminem, Jay-Z, and Public Enemy's Chuck D – who declared it his all-time favorite and "the first record that made me realize this was an album-oriented genre" – have testified on behalf of its brilliance. And never mind the presence of the Top 5 single "Walk This Way," whose power helped make Aerosmith's Steven Tyler and Joe Perry relevant for the first time in nearly a decade – and literally put Run-D.M.C. in bedrooms ranging from the Bronx to Bartlett to Bad Axe.

Look instead to the rest of the entirely filler-free set, be it the corkscrew turns, slippery wordplay, and "My Sharona"-meets-"Mickey" mixology of the boisterous "It's Tricky," the fat-but-minimized bass grooves and warped turntable wobble of the hysterical "You Be Illin'," chimes-accented inertia and boombox-on- shoulder thunder of the now-iconic "Peter Piper," or voice-as-percussion attack of the funky "Is It Live." With Raising Hell, the answer to the question is always affirmative – a sensation bolstered by the fact the group always had something to say.

The definition of Golden Age Hip-Hop in every way, Run-D.M.C. avoids the negativity and misogyny that later plagued the style, spinning assertive tales about identity (the biographical and culture-changing "My Adidas"), work ethics ("Perfection"), and, most notably, pride (the Harriet Tubman- and Malcom X.-referencing "Proud to Be Black"). Pavement-packed inner cities, tree-lined suburbs, and cornfield-rimmed rural areas would never again be the same. And rocking a rhyme that's right on time would become trickier than ever.

Marathon is not just a band, it's a top-level sport. The Amsterdam-based trio is bursting with energy, and it explodes out of them on stage, captivating audiences everywhere they go. With four Paradiso
shows under their belt, a packed Popronde, Welcome to the Village, Grauzone and many more, Marathon has quickly amassed an impressive live reputation, culminating in a top-10 spot at
Noorderslag. Both KINK and 3voor12 recognize the band as one of the talents of 2023.

V2 Benelux has signed Marathon for their debut EP, set to be released in May 2023. This is a major milestone for the band and a testament to their skills. Marathon's music is a passionate response to the crisis-ridden twenty-first century, channelling the energy of punk and the dissonance of shoegaze and post-punk to give voice to urban anxiety. Lennart's dynamic drumming, Kay's aggressive vocal delivery, and Nina's skillful six-string bass work create an explosive mix that is both raw and polished. Live, Marathon is a force to be reckoned with, with keyboardist Sofie and guitarist Victor bringing even more depth to their layered songs. Together, they create a high-energy defense against the doom and gloom of the modern world, making the uncomfortable bearable. Marathon is a band that demands attention, and their growing fan base is a testament to their undeniable talent.

Through evocative, emotionally resonant music, Goodbye, Hotel Arkada , the new LP from American harpist and composer Mary Lattimore , speaks not just for its beloved namesake _ a hotel in Croatia facing renovation _ but for a universal loss that is shared. Six sprawling pieces shaped by change; nothing will ever be the same, and here, the artist, evolving in synthesis, celebrates and mourns the tragedy and beauty of the ephem - eral, all that is lived and lost to time. Documented and edited in uncharacteristically measured sessions over the course of two years, the material remains rooted in improvisation while glistening as the most refined and robust in Lattimore's decade-long catalog. It finds her communing with friends, contemporaries, and longtime influences, in full stride yet slow - ing down to nurture songs in new ways. The cast includes Lol Tolhurst (The Cure), Meg Baird, Rachel Goswell (Slowdive), Roy Montgomery, Samara Lubelski, and Walt McClements . "When I think of these songs, I think about fading flowers in vases, melted candles, getting older, being on tour and having things change while you're away, not realizing how ephemeral experiences are until they don't happen anymore, fear for a planet we're losing because of greed, an ode to art and music that's really shaped your life that can transport you back in time, longing to maintain sensitivity and to not sink into hollow despondency." For the title and inspiration, Lattimore's mind returns to the island of Hvar in Croatia, where she first saw those silver ladders at the water's edge. "There's a big old hotel there called the Hotel Arkada, and you could tell it had been hosting holiday-goers for decades in a great way. I walked around the lobby and the empty ballrooms and it looked like a well-worn, well-loved place. My friend Stacey who lives there told me to `say goodbye to Hotel Arkada, it might not be here when you get back' and I heard soon after that it was actually going to be renovated in a very crisp, modern way." Lattimore became fixated on the ingredients that make a place special _ for Hotel Arkada, the patinaed chandeliers, the patterned bedspreads, the echoes of its intangible charm _ and how when those leave this world, as they inevitably always will, it feels import - ant to memorialize them, "to bottle it for a brief second.

Through evocative, emotionally resonant music, Goodbye, Hotel Arkada , the new LP from American harpist and composer Mary Lattimore , speaks not just for its beloved namesake _ a hotel in Croatia facing renovation _ but for a universal loss that is shared. Six sprawling pieces shaped by change; nothing will ever be the same, and here, the artist, evolving in synthesis, celebrates and mourns the tragedy and beauty of the ephem - eral, all that is lived and lost to time. Documented and edited in uncharacteristically measured sessions over the course of two years, the material remains rooted in improvisation while glistening as the most refined and robust in Lattimore's decade-long catalog. It finds her communing with friends, contemporaries, and longtime influences, in full stride yet slow - ing down to nurture songs in new ways. The cast includes Lol Tolhurst (The Cure), Meg Baird, Rachel Goswell (Slowdive), Roy Montgomery, Samara Lubelski, and Walt McClements . "When I think of these songs, I think about fading flowers in vases, melted candles, getting older, being on tour and having things change while you're away, not realizing how ephemeral experiences are until they don't happen anymore, fear for a planet we're losing because of greed, an ode to art and music that's really shaped your life that can transport you back in time, longing to maintain sensitivity and to not sink into hollow despondency." For the title and inspiration, Lattimore's mind returns to the island of Hvar in Croatia, where she first saw those silver ladders at the water's edge. "There's a big old hotel there called the Hotel Arkada, and you could tell it had been hosting holiday-goers for decades in a great way. I walked around the lobby and the empty ballrooms and it looked like a well-worn, well-loved place. My friend Stacey who lives there told me to `say goodbye to Hotel Arkada, it might not be here when you get back' and I heard soon after that it was actually going to be renovated in a very crisp, modern way." Lattimore became fixated on the ingredients that make a place special _ for Hotel Arkada, the patinaed chandeliers, the patterned bedspreads, the echoes of its intangible charm _ and how when those leave this world, as they inevitably always will, it feels import - ant to memorialize them, "to bottle it for a brief second.

Through evocative, emotionally resonant music, Goodbye, Hotel Arkada , the new LP from American harpist and composer Mary Lattimore , speaks not just for its beloved namesake _ a hotel in Croatia facing renovation _ but for a universal loss that is shared. Six sprawling pieces shaped by change; nothing will ever be the same, and here, the artist, evolving in synthesis, celebrates and mourns the tragedy and beauty of the ephem - eral, all that is lived and lost to time. Documented and edited in uncharacteristically measured sessions over the course of two years, the material remains rooted in improvisation while glistening as the most refined and robust in Lattimore's decade-long catalog. It finds her communing with friends, contemporaries, and longtime influences, in full stride yet slow - ing down to nurture songs in new ways. The cast includes Lol Tolhurst (The Cure), Meg Baird, Rachel Goswell (Slowdive), Roy Montgomery, Samara Lubelski, and Walt McClements . "When I think of these songs, I think about fading flowers in vases, melted candles, getting older, being on tour and having things change while you're away, not realizing how ephemeral experiences are until they don't happen anymore, fear for a planet we're losing because of greed, an ode to art and music that's really shaped your life that can transport you back in time, longing to maintain sensitivity and to not sink into hollow despondency." For the title and inspiration, Lattimore's mind returns to the island of Hvar in Croatia, where she first saw those silver ladders at the water's edge. "There's a big old hotel there called the Hotel Arkada, and you could tell it had been hosting holiday-goers for decades in a great way. I walked around the lobby and the empty ballrooms and it looked like a well-worn, well-loved place. My friend Stacey who lives there told me to `say goodbye to Hotel Arkada, it might not be here when you get back' and I heard soon after that it was actually going to be renovated in a very crisp, modern way." Lattimore became fixated on the ingredients that make a place special _ for Hotel Arkada, the patinaed chandeliers, the patterned bedspreads, the echoes of its intangible charm _ and how when those leave this world, as they inevitably always will, it feels import - ant to memorialize them, "to bottle it for a brief second.

After whetting our appetites with the new italo "classic" Volevi Una Hit repress, Bottin and his Cristalli Liquidi project team up with the French-Italiano electro pair Deux Control (aka Justine Forever & Rodion) for a double take of this sweaty song about the colour red and the gentle carnal forces of nature. You might want to pick up some Italian to enjoy the lyrics. Along with two entirely different main versions, Bottin's sped-up dub and Deux Control's vocally sparse mix will serve electro-funk heads and low-cheese/high-energy italo lovers alike.

ENG The new Will Toledo from Austria? - LAUNDROMAT CHICKS is the music project of TOBIAS HAMMERMÜLLER, who just turned 18 and still goes to school. He recorded most of the songs from his debut on Siluh Records by himself. Live he performs them with his band featuring Lena Pöttinger (drums), Theresa Strohmer (guitar, vocals) and Felix Schnabl (bass). Felix Schnabel, on the other hand, has his own garage punk project called SALAMIRECORDER, with Tobias playing bass. Musically, the whole thing sounds like an exquisite jingle-jangle indie/twee-pop sound. It almost seems like a lost album from early influential labels like Flying Nun, Cherry Red, Postcard Records. The songs from "Trouble" were mostly written at home, in the bedroom, in front of the TV and at his favorite spot at the movies. The basic mood of the songs is mostly melancholic, though that you can still cook or dance to, or listen to on the bus when you're on your way to going out with your friends. Tobias Hammermüller took inspiration from the indie rock sound of the 2010s (Snail Mail, Chastity Belt, The Babies, Best Coast, The Drums) and from many new wave hits (Aztec Camera, Psychedelic Furs, Echo and the Bunnymen, Prefab Sprout). The lines of text are largely based on quotes from films. He is particularly fond of the old strips by Éric Rohmer and Wim Wenders, and from New Hollywood/Nouvelle Vague movies, because they often deal with identity crises and escapism, just like his songs.

“La Settima Donna” (1978), also known as “The Last House On The Beach”, is a disturbing thriller directed by Franco Prosperi and set in a secluded cottage overlooking the Tyrrhenian sea, starring Florinda Bolkan, in the role of Sister Cristina, governess of five female students on a short vacation, rehearsing their Shakesperean end-of-year play. The unfortunate inhabitants of the house became soon hostages of three vicious criminals looking for a hiding place after a bank robbery, but the psychological and sexual violence ends when the nun abandons her vows. And the victims decide to get justice. Roberto Pregadio's brilliant music is not surprisingly, functional and almost disconnected from the bloody images: there is no overwhelming sense of disturbance for the listener.

The soundtrack of “La Settima Donna” was published only once, in cd format, attached to the rare dvd of the film, gaining new life on vinyl thanks to Musica Per Immagini. Some of the eleven tracks of the score are characterised by an easy listening mood and united by a psychedelic feel, in harmony with the progressive atmospheres found in albums such as “A Saucerful Of Secrets” (1968) and “Meddle” (1971) by Pink Floyd. However, the English band is not the only reference for the jazz pianist, who quotes a piece by Bryan Ferry, entrusting it to the voice of Ray Lovelock, one of the three kidnappers. After that, the Sicilian composer remodels an international hit by Donna Summer, background of the sequence in which the nun is forced to strip naked in front of her tormentors.

Sara Dobbs and Jenny Shore used to work summer stock theater in St. Louis, Missouri. They'd do the hand jive with TV stars past and future; they'd get coldly corrected by the ancient, legendary choreographer Gemze de Lappe. Sara went on to Broadway, including a run as Anybodys in West Side Story. Jenny went on to choreograph in the independent dance scene of early 2000s Chicago. Julie Shore is Jenny's sister. She's always made music_playing Chopin, writing songs, making bands with her friends. She's had the archetypal Millennial journey of entering adulthood in the '08 financial crisis and figuring out what stupid series of jobs you have to take to pay rent while keeping an artistic life alive. Miles Francis grew up in New York City with Backstreet Boys posters covering their walls. An extraordinary drummer since youth, Miles thrives in collaboration_ whether producing artists in their West Village studio, performing with artists like Angelique Kidjo, or powering protests with a big marching drum. These four_Miles, Julie, Jenny, and Sara_are Sister Squares. What made them a musical unit was working with Grammy winner and Oscar nominee Will Butler. They've all just finished a new record together: Will Butler + Sister Squares. "After Generations, I considered making a weird solo record. Me alone in the basement, etc., etc. Mostly I realized that what I wanted was the opposite," says Will. He increasingly turned to the band for feedback on lyrics and song structures. He asked Miles if they'd produce the record. The band played a run of shows in August 2022, airing out studio ideas in live rooms. After coming home, the band regrouped at Figure 8 Studios in Brooklyn. "I had quit my band Arcade Fire very recently, after 20 years_maybe the most complex decision of my life. I had spent the preceding two years at home with my three children. I was 39 years old. I was waking up every morning and reading Emily Dickinson, until I had read every Emily Dickinson poem. I was listening to Morrissey, to Shostakovich, to the Spotify top 50. I had unformed questions with inchoate answers," says Will. "But, honestly, I was feeling great about the record." The album projects widescreen emotional landscapes. Lead-off single "Long Grass" is like a Harry Styles song with 20 more years of life behind it. Standout track "Saturday Night" has a beat, according to Miles, "with that robot-alien-dancing-at-a-haunted- dive-bar feeling that we were going for." The back half of the album is a danceable, weird choral record with harmonies both beautiful and dissonant. Closing song "The Window" is the comedown after the party_Julie playing a Chopin Nocturne on a three-years-out-of-tune piano, slowed to half-speed on tape with Will singing over it in a voice exactly as tired as he was. It's a record with a warm, humane soul.

Sara Dobbs and Jenny Shore used to work summer stock theater in St. Louis, Missouri. They'd do the hand jive with TV stars past and future; they'd get coldly corrected by the ancient, legendary choreographer Gemze de Lappe. Sara went on to Broadway, including a run as Anybodys in West Side Story. Jenny went on to choreograph in the independent dance scene of early 2000s Chicago. Julie Shore is Jenny's sister. She's always made music_playing Chopin, writing songs, making bands with her friends. She's had the archetypal Millennial journey of entering adulthood in the '08 financial crisis and figuring out what stupid series of jobs you have to take to pay rent while keeping an artistic life alive. Miles Francis grew up in New York City with Backstreet Boys posters covering their walls. An extraordinary drummer since youth, Miles thrives in collaboration_ whether producing artists in their West Village studio, performing with artists like Angelique Kidjo, or powering protests with a big marching drum. These four_Miles, Julie, Jenny, and Sara_are Sister Squares. What made them a musical unit was working with Grammy winner and Oscar nominee Will Butler. They've all just finished a new record together: Will Butler + Sister Squares. "After Generations, I considered making a weird solo record. Me alone in the basement, etc., etc. Mostly I realized that what I wanted was the opposite," says Will. He increasingly turned to the band for feedback on lyrics and song structures. He asked Miles if they'd produce the record. The band played a run of shows in August 2022, airing out studio ideas in live rooms. After coming home, the band regrouped at Figure 8 Studios in Brooklyn. "I had quit my band Arcade Fire very recently, after 20 years_maybe the most complex decision of my life. I had spent the preceding two years at home with my three children. I was 39 years old. I was waking up every morning and reading Emily Dickinson, until I had read every Emily Dickinson poem. I was listening to Morrissey, to Shostakovich, to the Spotify top 50. I had unformed questions with inchoate answers," says Will. "But, honestly, I was feeling great about the record." The album projects widescreen emotional landscapes. Lead-off single "Long Grass" is like a Harry Styles song with 20 more years of life behind it. Standout track "Saturday Night" has a beat, according to Miles, "with that robot-alien-dancing-at-a-haunted- dive-bar feeling that we were going for." The back half of the album is a danceable, weird choral record with harmonies both beautiful and dissonant. Closing song "The Window" is the comedown after the party_Julie playing a Chopin Nocturne on a three-years-out-of-tune piano, slowed to half-speed on tape with Will singing over it in a voice exactly as tired as he was. It's a record with a warm, humane soul.

Nonesuch releases Sorry I Haven’t Called, the new album by Vagabon, the moniker of Lætitia Tamko. Co-produced by Tamko and Rostam (Vampire Weekend, Haim, Clairo), it finds Tamko reinventing herself once again and features the most playful and adventurous music of her career, as evidenced by its lead track and opening song ‘Can I Talk My Shit?’. Vagabon has also announced an autumn tour that includes a headline run in the US, as well as European dates with Weyes Blood.



“I didn’t feel like being introspective,” says Tamko of her new album. “I just wanted to have fun.” Following her intimate 2017 debut Infinite Worlds, the New York artist favoured expansive and evocative electronic textures in her breakthrough 2019 self-titled follow-up. But her latest album feels like a wholly new era for Tamko, one that’s transformational and uncompromising. Across 12 vibrant tracks she wrote and produced primarily in Germany, she channels dance music and effervescent pop through her own confident sensibilities. These conversational songs are alive and unselfconscious, a document of an artist fully embracing her vision and reclaiming her joy.



The first words she sings on the album are, “Can I talk my shit? / I got way too high for this.” It’s a statement of purpose for the rest of the album that this is an unapologetic artist. “This whole record is how I talk to my friends and how to talk to my lovers,” says Tamko. “I think honesty and conversational songwriting can become poetry. There’s beauty in plainly speaking without metaphors and without flowery imagery.”



The story of Sorry I Haven’t Called started in grief after Tamko’s best friend died in 2021. This devastating and unexpected loss unmoored Tamko but also gave her a newfound clarity. “The things that I thought I cared about, I no longer cared about,” she says. “I had a realization that I need to make sure to feel everything that comes my way.” She decided to sell her things and move to a small lakeside village a few hours north of Hamburg in northern Germany to process everything. “There's no linear path to grief, and everyone handles it differently, but uprooting my life just felt like exactly what I had to do,” says Tamko. “I needed a place to think and go through my discomfort privately but to also explore the newness and urgency I was feeling in my life.” In the village, her phone didn’t work and there were no close grocery stores or restaurants, so she spent her time alone working on music.



Despite the palpable absence in her life, her new songs were her most disarming and ebullient yet. The first one she wrote was ‘Carpenter’, a mesmerizing track anchored by a tangible bass groove, where she sings, “I wasn’t ready to move on out / but I'm more ready now.” It’s a fully-realised track and feels like the culmination of her catalogue so far. “A lot of the music that I was making there had nothing to do with my grief at all,” says Tamko. “Once I gave myself permission to make a record that's full of life and energy, I realized that’s the point of this album. In the midst of going through all of these tough things, it became a record because of the vitality that these songs had.” For Tamko, there’s power in pursuing happiness.



While writing in Germany, Tamko nurtured her love for dance music and let it seep into her new songs. “The only things that were giving me access to a feeling were dance music and going to a rave in an extremely dark club where if I wanted to cry, I could do it and be around other people,” she says.



After a few months in Germany that included marathon writing sessions and a whirlwind romance, Tamko decided to stay with friends in Los Angeles and finish her record. She enlisted co-producer Rostam to help her unify her vision.



Sorry I Haven’t Called is a warm and resilient album about embracing the ecstatic moments wherever you can by knowing how you love and how you mourn. It’s an album born of both communal dancefloor revelations and the clarifying peace from solitude, an emotional rebirth as well as an artistic one. “This record feels like what I've been working towards,” says Tamko. “When I think of this album, I think of playfulness. It's completely euphoric. It's because things were dark that this record is so full of life and energy. It’s a reaction to what I was experiencing at the time, not a document of it.”

The last time Canadian underground techno tastemaker Rennie Foster had a record on a French label it was the historic F-Communications. Back then Rennie’s penchant for bringing warehouse nostalgia together with hi-tech futurism was a consistent theme and in 2023 this fusion based musical concept is realized further toward the future through a new EP release, Cryptic Layers on Parisian imprint Skylax Records.


The record opens with Let It Go, a simple title for a complex and dreamy piece of lo-fi rave house featuring clattering breaks, ear worm vocals and a drastic bassline driving the whole custom vehicle. Then the similarly, simply titled Just Do It explodes into action with an inspired mix of Detroit inspired dub techno chords, fierce amen breaks and a hip-house energy akin to both current urban style and authentic musical roots. These tracks sound like they could have been released at any time during the past decades but still sound current, or even futuristic. Apparent is craft, design and an understanding of dance music from the perspective of obsession, experience and passion.



The remixes come from absolute legends in the world of techno, representing Rennie’s other home-base territories, the techno cities Detroit and Tokyo. Japanese electronic music icon Ken Ishii provides a storming acid remix of Just Do It with liquid 303 bass, anxious and trip vocal snips, and punchy drums that will sound absolutely ace in a club. Detroit third wave pioneer Sean Deason closes out the record with a crisp dose of hi-tech funk that is sure to be a DJ weapon with it’s hypnotic energy and timeless production style.



The digital only portion of Cryptic Layers begins with a second version from Ken Ishii, this time sans vocals leaving the acid stripped down and bare. Two more original tracks by Rennie Foster are also on offer. Sadlands is an organ laden deep house, synth-wave, contrasting piece of melancholic dream dance while I Say Peace signs off the project in a layered classic house style with early rave stabs and grooving after-hours appeal.

Factory Benelux presents a special 35th anniversary edition of Here Comes Everybody, the highly-regarded second album by Scottish group The Wake, originally released by Factory Records in 1985. Just 800 copies will be made available for Record Store Day on 18 April 2020, pressed in crystal clear vinyl with a bonus 7-inch single + digital copy.

The Wake formed in Glasgow in 1981 after singer/guitarist Caesar left Altered Images. Joining Factory the following year, the group toured with New Order and released popular mini-album Harmony. Trailed by sprightly single Talk About the Past in 1984, second album Here Comes Everybody was eventually recorded as a trio, combining dreampop melodies and wistful lyricism typified by standout track O Pamela (later interpreted by artful French new wave covers project Nouvelle Vague).

Praise for Here Comes Everybody: “Holds up as a touchstone for aching, atmospheric synth-pop, all slinky guitars, crispy percussion, textured keyboards and limber bass" (Pitchfork); “The album stands as a pillar of moody synth pop, still bearing passing resemblance to New Order while retaining the bounce of the Postcard label bands and the cavernous production of Closer-era Joy Division, covering it all in some of the heaviest synth wash this side of Klaus Schulze" (Dusted)

Newly re-mastered for this special 35th anniversary edition, the original 8 track album is now augmented by companion singles Talk About the Past and Of the Matter, pressed on a bonus 7-inch single in a picture sleeve. Here Comes Everybody itself is pressed on clear vinyl, housed in a white reverse board sleeve with printed inner bag containing lyrics, images and liner notes by band members Carolyn Allen and Caesar.

Alternative rock, or abbreviated to just simply alternative, first came to present in the early ‘70s as independent underground music and gradually developed into the ‘90s as a reaction to the mainstream pop music from that era. Alternative music was represented by bands who were signed to independent labels, but major labels also picked up on the trend, which led to commercial success in the international music charts. The 2LP 90’s Alternative Collected highlights songs by bands such as Faith No More, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Kula Shaker, Eels, R.E.M., Oasis, Live, Soundgarden, Fun Lovin’ Criminals, Smash Mouth, and many others

Coke Bottle Clear Vinyl. High Vis were formed in 2016 from the ashes of some of the UK's best hardcore bands. Gild-toothed frontman Graham Sayle's anguished lyrics about life in working class Britain were familiar to fans of Tremors' full-throttle thrash, but alongside his former bandmate Edward `Ski' Harper and veterans of Dirty Money, DiE and The Smear, High Vis sought to transform that energy and intensity into something entirely new.Like scene-mates Chubby and the Gang did by pulling in unlikely source material from classic doo-wop or Micromoon have by combining everything from psychedelia and metal into their high potency mix, High Vis' 2019 debut album, No Sense No Feeling showed the band were never going to be constrained by any sense of genre rules or regulations. Its claustrophobic rattle bore traces of Joy Division, Bauhaus, Crisis, The Cure and Gang Of Four lurking in the shadows. 2020's synth-driven EP, Society Exists, was further evidence of the band's restless creative MO.High Vis' second album Blending sees them open their viewfinder wider than ever before. Alongside longstanding favourites such as Fugazi and Echo and The Bunnymen; Ride and even Flock Of Seagulls were shared reference points as the band worked on the album together.From the anthemic sweep of opener "Talk For Hours", through the title track's psychedelic swirl and "Fever Dream"'s baggy groove, it sees High Vis' sound blossoming into something with an unlimited richness. The hazy drift of "Shame" or the melodic jangle of "Trauma Bonds" may take them until uncharted waters, but they still have all the power and bite that made No Sense No Feeling so remarkable.Lyrically, the album represents another leap forward too. Talking frankly about poverty, class politics, and the challenges of everyday life, Sayle's lyrics have always addressed the downtrodden and discarded communities across Britain slipping below the waterline. This time around, Sayle's lost not of that social consciousness, but he's looked at himself and his own emotional landscape, and in the process created something that feels more universal, that reaches a hand-out to people and ultimately gives a message of hope."To me, the lyrics are less selfish," reflects Sayle. "In the past, I couldn't see past whatever was going on with me. It's about accepting things and being open to conversations and learning to talk to people rather than just thinking that we're all doomed."The song "Talk for Hours" is a prime example of that. Born out of an afternoon meeting up with an old group of mates "repeating the same thing and not actually learning anything about each other" it offers to actually break the cycle and to listen and speak frankly about shared feelings and experiences. "Trauma Bonds", meanwhile, traces the broken lines of those living in lost communities, but ultimately realises that despite our shared scars, there's still hope to move on to a better future."The message of the album is you're not who you're told you are," Sayle summarises. "You're not your class background. Whatever it is, you're not that. Don't resign yourself to thinking you can't be this and you can't be that."It's a vitally important message right now, and one that could be the motto for not only Blending, but for High Vis themselves.

Lewis II was the follow up to Lewis Taylor's epochal, self-titled debut album. It was initially released in 2000 and this double LP release, its first ever vinyl edition, has been heavily anticipated for nearly a quarter of a century. It's often years before most listeners catch up with an album's breathtaking vision and devastating execution, and so it has proved with Lewis II; it stands up exceptionally well today.

After Island rejected Lewis Taylor's second release (later released as The Lost Album), he returned to the studio to record Lewis II. Less esoteric than Lewis Taylor, Lewis II is a more polished, sophisticated funk and mature uptempo soul than the dark psych-soul of his debut. The production, whilst slicker, is a bit tougher, with more crisp, R&B-flavoured grooves and head-nod beats and more bass pumping up his voice. The vocal intensity present on album number one doesn't abate. Indeed, as Lewis himself noted, "my voice is better on Lewis II and the vocals are high in the mix."

The moody funk of "Party" sounds like a mad blend of Riot-era Sly Stone and Brian Wilson. It rides a stuttering drum machine groove with acapella harmony vocals arriving halfway through to stay for the duration. "My Aching Heart", with its clean, slick, late 90s R&B drums, could surely have been a single. Perhaps Lewis's idiosyncratic melodies would've been too challenging for the charts. Lewis *had hoped* "You Make Me Wanna" would be a single but the dank, organ-drenched groove, coupled with the growling eroticism of Lewis's vocals would've, again, made this beyond the pale for most mainstream music fans. Somewhat incongruous acidic synths and bleeps give way to a laconic summertime groove on breezy highlight "The Way You Done Me", all funky acoustic guitars and stunning, good-time vocals. Sumptuous ballad "Satisfied", a real fan favourite, marries unusual instrumentation with classic soul-ballad structure and closes with a monster guitar solo which almost out-Princes Prince in its gritty melodicism, set against sweeping strings of real majesty. Prog-Funk-Rock!

The dubbed-out, spaced-out "Never Gonna Be My Woman" is the closest the album comes to classic D’Angeloesque neo-soul, with echoes of the esoteric funk featured across Maxwell's contemporaneous Embrya. But what follows is on some next level business. As Lewis's biggest fan, Geoffrey Scull, noted, "the "I'm On The Floor" / "Lewis II" / "Into You" song cycle stacks up against any other consecutive 15 minutes of recorded music, ever!" And who are we to argue with that? These could've been hits for Justin Timberlake during his fascinating Timbaland-collaborating days, such is the sonic and textural pop experimentation at play here. The extraordinary title track sounds like an outtake from Marvin Gaye’s Trouble Man and spends its last third as a searingly dark piano-led psychedelic-guitar-crunching soul instrumental. Just astounding. And then. AND THEN! The way it segues into, er, "Into You" is just straight up genius. Goosebumps galore on this one, no words can describe its celestial brilliance. Just kick back and be beguiled by the "Let me come on over again" refrain that ornately adorns its sensational coda. Phew.

The swoonsome, lovelorn ballad "Blue Eyes", apparently written in the spirit of Marvin’s "Vulnerable", is a lush, slow swinger with some gorgeous noir touches. To close, Lewis completely retools Jeff Buckley’s beloved, beautiful "Everybody Here Wants You" and, while talking some liberties, even manages to surpass the original. Yes, really! With soaring, fiery vocals set against icy piano and psychedelic guitars, Lewis recasts Buckley's effort as dramatic, ethereal soul.

When it came to translating the original CD booklet into a 12 inch LP sleeve, thanks to some suggestions from Cally Callomon (head of Island’s art department, who designed all the sleeves for Lewis’s two Island albums and their singles) and his trusting us with his “Lewis Taylor” folder full of various negatives, test prints and whatever else he was able to salvage from the old Island art department, we’ve gotten pretty close to what the original LP sleeve would’ve looked like if it existed. Simon Francis’s vinyl mastering, presents the eleven tracks over a double LP so, as ever, the record sounds outstandingly good. The records have been cut by Cicely Balston at Air Studios and pressed at Record Industry.

New Copenhagen, Denmark based imprint Inherent Futurism shines a light on an unsung gemstone from the Detroit Electro genre, Autobot-1000's '3 Dimension Of Space'. Inherent Futurism is a new label coming out of Copenhagen, Denmark and headed up by Morten Kamper, a staple in the Danish electronic music scene who's been involved in it for more than 30 years and nowadays is running the 313vinyl_collective record store in the capital.

Inherent Futurism will focus on a blend of unearthed old records and new material with no real boundaries, just a focus on quality electronic music in all forms with an inclination towards Techno and Electro. To inaugurate the label, Morten will release Autobot-1000's debut album on vinyl for the first time, the project was only out on CD and released in 2001 on Hoodwink Records from North Carolina, US. Run by James B. Boggs who also was executive producer on the album.

Across the '3 Dimensions Of Space' LP, Autobot-1000 treats us to an array of classic Detroit Techno and Electro cuts, fusing an amalgamation of crisp analogue drums, intricately intertwined synth strings, squelchy acid licks and arpeggios alongside silky snaking bass grooves, twinkling chimes and vocoder vocal lines. The entire project embraces and encapsulates the futuristic, spaced out aesthetic synonymous with the Electro sound of its it's time and place, namely Detroit at the turn of the millennium.

Born from the fractal innerworld of Vymethoxy Redspiders,
better known as Urocerus Gigas from Leeds-based xenofeminist
crisis energy rock duo Guttersnipe, The Ephemeron Loop's
debut is a synaesthetic acid bath that cracks open the doors of
perception to reveal a sonic landscape of ineffable beauty,
divine femininity and continual transformation.

"PsychonauticEscapism" sublimes Guttersnipe's teeth-gnashing spacegrindaesthetic leaving washes of dream pop ambience, dilated
speedcore fusillades and shapeshifting psychedelic dub effects.

It's an album that lodges itself creatively between Cocteau
Twins, Arca, Basic Channel and Napalm Death, lysergically
fluxing imperceptibly between seemingly contradictory sonics
and philosophies. Miss VR took 14 long, difficult years to write
the album, which developed cautiously as she broke through
the misery of her pre-transition life with shoegaze music, rave
and psychedelic drugs in Leeds' queer underground. An
existence languishing in negativity, soundtracked by extreme
music was replaced with the opportunity to experience
euphoria, elation and ecstatic freedom, emotions that coalesce
sensually on "Psychonautic Escapism".

These formativeexperiences are the album's initial building blocks, assembled between 2007 and 2018 as Miss VR came to grips with her
reality as an autistic/ADHD trans woman and the multidimensional psychotropic experiences that assisted that realization. And as V's worldview expanded and shifted as she lived a fresh life, the music itself developed spiritually. In 2018,after being impressed with producer Ross Halden's work with Guttersnipe, Miss VR asked him to assist her with developing The Ephemeron Loop's fragmented songs and visions. "I learned a lot about why people don't usually combine various kinds of sounds or styles in music," she admits. "It is very difficult to get it to all work together!" But after two-and-a-half years of the duo navigating a "labyrinth of fragmented Reason 5 and Logic
projects," re-recording and processing, and working tirelessly on
complex arrangements and compositions, they eventually found
a light at the end of the tunnel. The finished album is towering
and ambitious, Escher-like in its illusory reconstruction of
familiar elements into brain-altering forms. The album begins
with 'Psychonautic Escapism (Cold Alienation)', decorating Miss
VR's disembodied moans with throbbing dub techno synths,
insectoid digital percussion and disorientating high-BPM
electronics.

Her vocals hover weightlessly between My Bloody Valentine's Bilinda Butcher and Cocteau Twins' Elizabeth Fraser, and on 'Lattice Dysmorphism of Lysothymic Oneiroid Cytoterrain' drift against grinding industrial hardcore kicks, serrated bass and Lorenzo Senni-esque trance pointillism. On 'Trench Through Pink Death', Miss VR's voice mutates into a shrill scream as she directs the music from splattered freeflowing doom into harsh hyper-speed death metal and
breakcore. Woven together with both precision and delicacy, "Psychonautic Escapism" turns a rough patchwork of ideas,
experiences, feelings and vivid emotions into a glorious neon
tapestry. In living and exploring the realities of autism, ADHD
and trans identity, Vymethoxy Redspiders has masterminded a
sonic language that feels fresh, urgent and shockingly honest.
Psychedelic is a term that gets thrown around far too loosely at
the moment - in this case there's just no better way of
describing the album's scope.