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A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Like many debut solo albums from musicians in bands, Jared Mattson’s Peanut didn’t originally come from a need to break away. As a composer for the Mattson 2, Jared Mattson was working up a batch of new songs through the winter of 2019-2020, looking ahead to the next album he and brother Jonathan Mattson, the blitzkrieging drummer, would record. As the pandemic hit stateside, Jared holed up in his home studio and kept developing the new music. And during that process it became increasingly clear to them that this wasn’t shaping up to be the next Mattson 2 album. This was a Mattson 1 album.

Jared had been absorbing the guitar work on records by reggae stalwarts Aswad and Burning Spear, and also the Police’s Andy Summer and the ways he gives songs space. And Jared wanted a prominent bass sound, too, where the guitar itself sometimes settles into the passenger seat so that the bass can drive. Lyrically, the album taps into our rattled world, where anxiety, loss, violence, and regret are sometimes pierced by the promise of love. The time spent working on the album was a profoundly introspective time as he reflected on past relationships while living through and writing during the pandemic, he also never lost sight of this truth about himself: Life is great with music.

One of the album’s standout highlights is “Burn Down Babylon,” which is propelled by the bass’s funk-you-say groove. You don’t often encounter many pop songs with so blunt an opening line as, “I got punched in the face last night by a neo-Nazi,”—a true experience that was delivered many years ago in a bar brawl in Carlsbad, California. But to hear the music that goes along with this tale manages a vibe that is less melee and more backyard jubilee.

When “Please Come Here,” with an intro that slinks along like a Cadillac on a Sunday morning drive, kicks in, it’s typical of the album’s melodic pop flourishes, but the twist here is that the vocals are in Japanese (The Mattson 2 have toured Japan 20 times and covered many Japanese pop songs on 2018’s Vaults of Eternity: Japan). Ween’s “She Wanted to Leave” is the lone cover, but the way Jared reimagines the song makes it fits seamlessly within the album’s sonic template. The song’s inclusion was also a personal way to honor one of Jared’s best friends, who died from cancer two years ago. The two had always bonded over the song and marveled at its inherent beauty. Ultimately, Mattson’s solo debut unfolds like a string of fascinating clouds: These are not songs in a hurry; they shift around as they float by, and, most notably, they carry their unique kind of electric charge.

Award-winning Vibraphonist Lewis Wright with Matt Brewer (Double-Bass) and Marcus Gilmore (Drums) partnered together in 2019 on their 'The Color of Intention' CD album. We believed that the recordings deserved release on vinyl.

“The Colour of Intention refers to the creative process itself: that in order to express yourself honestly in music, you have to generate clear intentions developed from thoughts and emotions which then colour the work rather than explaining every aspect of it. In the moment of performance, the goal then becomes to put all these previous investigations out of mind and exist in the present. The colour of intention is describing everything except performance; the slower processes of development, reflection and refinement and how they’ll seep, often unpredictably, into everything that ends up being realised. Working with Matt (Brewer) and Marcus (Gilmore) adds the last and most engaging dimension. How they interpret the music, interact and bring their own highly developed languages to bare, creates something that’s both a reflection of my intentions and also infinitely more sophisticated than it’s possible for me to conceive of. I think in this sense, human connection is the greatest element of what it is we do as musicians.” – Lewis Wright

Grey Marbled Vinyl

The charm of exploration leads to cinematic echoes that fuse rattling break drums and synergetic nuances, creating a sphere of ancestral musical paths in which a poly-form stylistics gives a recognisable imprint to 'Foreshadow', Marco Bruno's new album that embarks on a new sonic exploration and delves into the meanders of research with an abysmal attention to detail, a significant project in the evolution of the artist and his Evighet Records label.

For this release, two veterans such as James Ruskin and Mark Broom, with their alias The Fear Ratio, set in time their experience, masterfully reinterpreting that pivotal feeling of free expression that reigns at the heart of the project.

The transcendental ambiance of the Kāthā cassette continues its amphibian metamorphosis. Adapting to its new terrestrial reality.

Cerebral elements spread through the spine of Kusuma’s double offering towards Nic Ford’s ‘Cyberd’ layering percussive realms with a delicate balance of obscurity and enlightenment. Bolstering into the raw energy of a scared rainforest at dawn.

On the flip side, Konduku stays fearless on Khun Fluff’s ‘Daw’ with his signature style of ominous drum patterns, fluttering low-ends. Goosebump-inducing textures across the grid - keeping the feline’s voice and meditative presence reverberating throughout.

Cosmic veteran, Higher Intelligence Agency, transforms Temple Rat’s “The Garden of Earthly Delights” through his trademark synthetic modulations into a spellbinding B2 dream.

Following in the footsteps of "Mind Palace" and "Lost Spirits", respectively issued in 2018 and 2021, Hidden Empire return to Stil vor Talent with their eagerly anticipated third studio full-length, "Momentum". Going the same route that came to define their sound throughout the years, Branko Novakovic and Niklas Schäfers cook a savvy mix of deep electroid flavours and prog techno magnitude which flourishes in the long-playing format. Orbiting the frontier between proper no-nonsense, floor-focussed effectiveness and a trademark exploratory take on electronics, Hidden Empire here delivers one of their most accomplished slices to date, which not only spans the largest span of their many-faceted influences, from tribal anchorage to hypermodern escapology, but breathes a truly epic wind into it.

Draped in luscious, silken envelopes and easternmost ambiences, "Dawn" gets the ball rolling on a mystique-imbued note, halfway meditation-friendly material and square-shouldered club busting wares. Moving into Afro-infused house grounds, "Modesty" finds Branko and Niklas heading for the deeper end of the spectrum, as they pull out a clinically precise blender of rattling percussions, opaque incantations, lush synth swashes and verbed-out machine talk, tailored for nightly boogie rituals in the forest. "Avalanche" opts for a more brooding, deadlier approach. Cutting its path away from prying eyes, this one finds Hidden Empire pulling the stealth weaponry to absolute hypnotic effect - perfect for serious in-between peak time business with its thick, thriller-like tension, mist-shrouded atmosphere and surgical focus. Featuring Felix Raphael on vocals, "Who We Are", is a pop-influenced chugger that perhaps best defines Hidden Empire's ambivalent style, both hi-NRG and innervated with a melancholy that infuses down to the bass and most functional elements. Geared up for big-room traction with its seesawing synths and clinical drumwork, Raphael's moving timbre does more than offer a sensible counterpoint to the track's overall sturdy backbone, it takes it to a whole other dimension completely.

"Repeat The Good" ft. Wolfson balances out a fast-ticking groove with those subtle melodic lines Hidden Empire champion to astounding vibrancy, offering a particularly satisfying glimpse into their vortical imaginarium, whereas "Last Call" has us journeying to straight out Moroder-esque territories, flush with the aptly configured palette of fuzzy space disco bass, fast-paced Italo churn and vocodized talk for good measure. All in breaks and chopped-up euphoria, "Vivid" runs the hoodoo down in muscular fashion and with impressive levels of energy throughout, all set at cranking up the heat one notch further, while "Rebel" provides us with the kind of rough-around-the-edges EBM horsepower and neon-clad synth engineering that'll get the basement in a state of alert. Encompassing all of the pair's idiosyncratic merger of styles - from pop-laced Italo to spaced-out techno wares, through jagged motorik and heavily mecched-out jacking house, "Alright" shows off Hidden Empire's wide arsenal of pyrotechnics under the most compelling of lights. A more openly jagged and quirky weapon that hatches into a full-fledged solar number around the half, "Momentum" roars up the club's highway at full throttle, proving a formidable asset when it comes to plunging dancers into a state of weird, left-of-centre euphoria.

A stroboscopic eclipse is predicted as "Dark Sun" enters the room, deploying its obscure wingspan over the ravers, not quite a bad omen as it lets more light in with every bar, its brittle piano lines and heart-wrenching vocals cutting a path into the crowd's pulsating hearts. Graceful as Hidden Empire's music can be, a moment of utter exhilarating beauty. "Savasana" wraps up the voyage with a pure slab of cyphered 4x4 seduction, as an ASMR-like voice guides us across the soul-questioning haze that blankets our pathway onto a luminous finale. A piece of elusive nature, clearly designed for the club and yet telling a tale of off-piste initiation through twelve fascinating movements, "Momentum" will undoubtedly etch on the listeners' mind as one of the German pair's most strikingly powerful emanations.

Download:
1. Hidden Empire - Dawn Interlude
2. Hidden Empire - Modesty
3. Hidden Empire - Avalanche
4. Hidden Empire & Felix Raphael - Who We Are
5. Hidden Empire & Wolfson - Repeat the Good
6. Hidden Empire - Last Call
7. Hidden Empire - Vivid
8. Hidden Empire - Rebel
9. Hidden Empire - Alright
10. Hidden Empire - Momentum
11. Hidden Empire - Dark Sun
12. Hidden Empire - Savasana
13. Hidden Empire & Felix Raphael - Who We Are (Instrumental)

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

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

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

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

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

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

Lloyd Cole & The Commotions – Cole, Blair Cowan, Lawrence Donegan, Neil Clark and Stephen Irvine – were formed in Glasgow in 1982, where Buxton-born singer-songwriter Cole was studying Philosophy and English at the University of Glasgow -Their sound swam against the tide of shiny 80s synthesisers, offering intense, melodic, guitar-based pop, topped with droll words packed with literary references.

Given just how loved debut album Rattlesnakes was, it would have been hard for whatever followed to be received as warmly – yet Easy Pieces made a good first of it. It was to sell twice as many copies in its first two weeks as Rattlesnakes had to date, giving the group a Top 5 chart placing on its release in November 1985. Recorded with 80s super-producers Clive Langer and Alan Winstanley, its first two singles, the brooding, gospel influenced Brand New Friend and the forever-jaunty Lost Weekend reached the UK Top 20.

This re-issue faithfully replicates the original 1985 Polydor Records UK release with printed inner sleeve and is pressed onto high quality 180g vinyl.

Für viele Musiker ist der Schritt aus dem Kollektiv ein riskantes Manöver: Wie nämlich nehmen Band und Publikum die Entscheidung auf? Hendrik Otremba, Sänger der Gruppe Messer, stellt nun sein Soloalbum vor. Er hat es Riskantes Manöver genannt - aber nicht aus dem genannten Grund. Längst hat er sich als eigenständiger Künstler etabliert, hat als Maler, Autor und Performer stets auch zur Identität von Messer beigetragen, die gerade obendrein an einem neuen Album arbeiten - dieses Soloalbum kündet also nicht von Zwist. Wenn etwas verblüfft, dann vielleicht eher, dass Otremba nicht erneut in ein neues Medium aufbricht, sondern dorthin zurückgeht, wo alles anfing: zu den eigenen Songs, die bisher im Verborgenen lagen. Riskantes Manöver ist dabei kein Aufguss des Bekannten, aus Ennui oder Eitelkeit. Viel eher tritt der Songwriter Hendrik Otremba an die Öffentlichkeit, der sich parallel zu Messer entwickelt hat. In den vergangenen zwölf Jahren nimmt er Demos auf, experimentiert, geht intuitiv vor und findet zu einer eigenen Sprache, aus der er nun mit zwei engen Freunden ein Album ausgearbeitet hat: Multi-Instrumentalist Alan Kassab, ein Schulfreund Otrembas, und Kadavar-Schlagzeuger Christoph 'Tiger" Bartelt, schon Produzent des Messer-Debuts. Gemeinsam nähern sie sich den Demos wie einem Skript und schaffen so eine Art auditiven Autorenfilm. Im Zentrum steht eine kreative Vision, die von virtuosen Technikern und begnadeten Darstellern umgesetzt wird - neben der Kern-Crew gehören dazu Stella Sommer, Alex Zhang Hungtai (Ex-Dirty Beaches), der Otremba überhaupt erst dazu inspirierte, ein eigenes Album zu schreiben), Gregor Schwellenbach, Friedrich Paravicini, Dominik Otremba (aka Performance) - aber auch Tochter Hedi und mehr als ein Dutzend weitere Kreative zwischen Indie-Adel, Hochkultur-Bagage und Jugendfreunden. Doch nicht nur durch sein Casting-Gespür und weitere direktive Entscheidungen überzeugt Otremba, sondern vor allem mit Musik, die durch ihre Weite und einen eigensinnigen erzählerischen Ansatz gar filmisch wirkt: Als zarter Chansonier schleicht Otremba durch die Streicherschluchten von New York II, geifert als Apokalyptiker in Nektar Nektar vor Blastbeat und heulendem Saxofon, findet in der sinophilen Klavierballade Bargfeld aber auch zu Ruhe und Intimität. Brachialen Proto-Industrial und dröhnenden Goth meistert Otremba ebenso wie epischen Pop oder Großstadt-Country; hier öffnet ein Musik-Enthusiast sein vielseitiges Portfolio, in dem er als Sänger und Performer zugleich eine neue Bandbreite entwickelt. In sein Rollen-Inventar führt Otremba zudem die Figur "66 ein, ein "Zeuge des zivilisatorischen Niedergangs" und eine Art Erzählstimme, durch deren Perspektive wir auf das von Katastrophen und Verlassenheit geprägte Geschehen des Albums blicken. Otremba tritt als "66 maskiert auf, zu sehen etwa auf dem Cover der Riskantes Manöver Doppel-10-Inch. Was die Bandagen bedeuten, bleibt unklar - ein weiterer, rätselhafter Eintrag in Otrembas Privatmythologie, bestehend aus Namen, Zeichen, Bildern, die sich durch sein gesamtes Werk erstrecken. Riskantes Manöver öffnet darin nicht nur eine neue Facette, der Titel fasst zugleich das Ethos eines Arbeitens zusammen, "das nicht auf Relevanz oder Erfolg gepolt ist". Gerade, wenn dabei immer wieder Gegensätze vereint werden müssen, die an dem Menschen dahinter zerren: "Das riskante Manöver ist mit den Widersprüchen zu leben und sie im eigenen Schaffen stattfinden zu lassen. Lust und kreative Ambition als was Positives zu begreifen in einer Situation, wo das, was ich sehe, eigentlich für das Gegenteil spricht, abgründig, negativ, dämonisch ist." In diesem Sinne ist hier ein Monolith von einem Album geschaffen, der sich zugleich machtvoll und zart aufstemmt, wie es im Untertitel der Platte heißt: "gegen die Verachtung der Gegenwarth"! - Sebastian Berlich

Das erste Album in voller Länge seit fünf Jahren von den kanadischen Melodic-Metal-Helden Gatekeeper! Eine fesselnde Reise mit acht Songs, die epischen, melodischen Heavy Metal neu definiert! From Western Shores ist messerscharfen in Ausführung und Produktion. Der gefragte Arthur Rizk (Cavalera Conspiracy, Kreator, Sonja) übernahm die Mixaufgaben. Letztendlich verdoppelt sich From Western Shores auf die Elemente, die Gatekeeper zu einem internationalen Metal-Schwergewicht gemacht haben. Die epischen Teile sind epischer und die traurigen Teile - wie die Band unterstreicht - "sad as fuck". Es verstärkt die Vorstellung, dass Gatekeeper ein Schmelztiegel von Stilen ist, anders eben als diverse Protagonisten in der Melodic-Metal-Szene.

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Reviews / Features / Ratings: Deaf Forever, Rocks, Classic Rock, Eclipsed, Rolling Stone, Visions, Slam Magazine, Rock Tribune, Rock Hard, Legacy, Rock Hard, Rockway, Metal Invader, Loud and Proud u.a.

First things first - you don't need me to tell you about the significance of Australia in the history of punk. I mean, what am I, Jon Savage? Google it yourself, FFS. Instead, let's just agree that the speedy, feral racket thrown together by the likes of The Saints, Radio Birdman and The Scientists in the mid-late '70s is AT LEAST as deliriously entertaining as anything concocted by their UK/US counterparts, sowing the seeds for seemingly endless garage-inflected noisemakers in the land down under. No one likes using words like 'tradition' or 'heritage' here - the punk rock clusterbomb is far too messy for any of that business - but also emerging from Australian rock's primordial soup is the addictive sneer of Stiff Richards. Like their predecessors, the band are a gleefully wracked mess of full throttle energy and barrelling power chords, with songs like 'Kids Out On The Grass' and 'Point of You' proving at least the equal of '(I'm) Stranded' or 'Aloha Steve And Danno'. Nine tracks in less than 30 minutes, all winners and all determined to leave you flipping over couches and smashing your TV set. And let's face it, you may as well; there's nothing good on. It all builds towards frantic closer 'Fill In The Blanks', which rattles around your speakers like the UK Subs trying to play Ed Kuepper riffs at the centre of an earthquake, before grinding to a halt as a voice says, "That's the one." Does it sound self-satisfied? Hey, it's got good reason to - this is the best no-frills garage rock party since Gino & The Goons' 'Do The Get Around', and the only appropriate response is to declare yourself betrothed to Stiff Richards because you can't imagine your life without 'em. Don't believe me? Sort out your ears and get 'State Of Mind' in 'em. Rock'n'roll as it's supposed to be played. Will Fitzpatrick.

Relentless raver and emerging artist from the Rinse France roster of captivating talent, RONI launches her imprint Nehza Records with a five-track EP titled ‘Slowing’ by Bordeaux-based Neida . Marking the debut release on the label, Neida is the first producer to bring RONI’s fantasy-led vision to life.

‘Slowing’ is a cross-pollination of breaks, acid, jungle and bass which nods to the sound of the underground UK rave scene circa 1990. An era that RONI closely aligns with in terms of sound, art and the sense of liberation synonymous with 90s club culture, Neida nails this aesthetic throughout the EP. ‘Bull’ sets a powerful tone as the opening track, packed with punchy drums layered below an orchestral-like vocal before ‘DSO’ burbles through with squelchy synthwork over a 4/4 beat — a clear hint of that UK rave sound simmering under the surface. Garnering his appreciation for reggae and Rasta dialect, Neida’s rework of a vocal derived from reggae artist Don Carlos is masterfully blended into this 6-minute churner.

Over on the B-side, ‘Guess Who’ burns slowly with downtempo breaks and mesmerising chords; you can almost smell an imaginary forest as the track unravels, creating an image of tripping in nature. ‘WHT’ rumbles through with a mellow introduction before going full-whack into barreling drums and clap-heavy percussion, illustrating Neida’s ability to dip into experimental textures that nod to complex rhythm patterns rather than club-cut melodies. ‘For All The Time Sake’ closes the EP with an acid bassline and bright, crisp percussion ending the EP on a significantly vibrant note to mark the first stepping stone of RONI’s record label. ‘Slowing’ is a spiralling myriad of bright atmospheres and escapism, likely to be one of many sonic trademarks on Nehza Records.

yellow marbled vinyl

Kicking off the release in style, ASC serves up a thunderous atmospheric amen break assault with The Arcane. A calming intro with clean breaks and swirling fx, welcome eerie keys before heavy kicks thrust the track into life with crisp weighty amens snatching your attention. The undertone bass complements the break work perfectly, and the atmosphere gradually ratchets up over a subtle backdrop of effects and pads. A true aural statement.

Dreamy synth-work, lush pads and an understated bassline punctuate State Of Mind, before the apache takes centre stage amidst mournful melodies and echoed snares, setting an unforgettably melancholic tone. A subtle but bliss love letter to yesteryear.

An impeccable, ever-building composition up next, as stabbing breaks and synths, introduce Force Majeure. A moody bassline sets the tone before 'whooshing' soundscapes flood the senses. Myriads of elements are frequently added into the mix, as the atmosphere envelopes relentlessly throughout, resulting in a production masterclass.

Closing the EP is the cleverly titled Threeform. A chilled-out treat dialling back the intensity with a luscious calming vibe over freestyle 3/4 time signature jazz breaks. Infused with relaxing brass samples and a laidback approach, ASC provides yet another example of his production skills.

Words by Chris Hayes (Spatial / Red Mist)

Dear Friends, it's 2023 and the future of Leftfield Bass, Trap, and Hybrid Grime is here... RATIONAL SOUL's debut EP, "SELF TITLED", is going to define a new era on the dance floor, reimagining 140 beats that typically are stereotyped into narrow catagories. "SELF TITLED" will become the worldwide definition of a style never heard before, sought after and inevitably copycatted by those inspired.

With no surprise, 2023 is set off to a paramount start for the German SATURATE! label, with an EP that “is the future of Leftfield Bass, Trap, and Hybrid Grime” and “it’s going to define a new era on the dance floor, reimagining 140 beats that typically are stereotyped into narrow categories.” The mastermind behind such a project, called SELF TITLED, is RATIONAL SOUL a Virginia-based, veteran electronic music producer. The EP is coming out in full on January 13, digitally and on vinyl, and it features six originals and four remixes. What sounds like a disorienting emptiness at the beginning, makes perfect sense when read as part of the overall narrative of the composition. “One moment you’re living happy-go-lucky, almost like it’s the script of a Disney movie, the next moment you’re questioning why you exist- how is it you’ve become a slave to the 9 to 5? Phone by your side as digital anti-anxiety medication, entertaining yourself with something nostalgic to remind yourself of better times…war against yourself, to reset your identity.” The fight against this subconscious condition was RATIONAL SOUL’s starting point while writing SELF TITLED. The artist’s attempt to light a lighter to ignite a spark in our consciousness and thus reveal the void in which we are immersed. “Wake up” he seems to want to tell us. Don’t be a pawn, be a player of your life. Let’s riot against this status quo and, quoting RATIONAL SOUL himself, “Let’s be gangsta and fuck shit up because we are mad at why our world is falling apart: twerk on a cop car with a fine cigar in your mouth type beat.” He then concludes by spilling one, big truth, “what better genre of music could describe these feelings than bass music?” How could we not agree?

Der Bruch kam 2019 mit dem Album Putzlicht, mit dem sich Frevert nach fünf Jahren Pause neu erfand, das Korsett des Liedermachers abstreifte. Plötzlich war alles größer und druckvoller, als hätten The War On Drugs seine Schreibklause gestürmt. Pseudopoesie geht noch weiter – auch dank des neuen Produzenten Tim Tautorat (Faber, Provinz, Tristan Brusch). Freverts Lieder feuern nicht zum Durchhalten an, spenden keinen Trost, geben keinen Rat. Sie legen sanft den Finger auf die Wunde, da wo Träume verkümmern und Herzen verhärten, schieben dich sachte zur Tür und lassen dich da stehen mit dem Schlüssel in der Hand. Das ist große, zuweilen fast schmerzhaft schöne Popmusik, die das Leben und die Menschen ernst nimmt, aus Alltäglichkeiten das Drama unserer Existenz schält und neuerdings immer einen Ausweg bereithält: den radikalen Neuanfang, die Flucht in ein neues Leben, so als Idee. Aufgenommen mit der Live-Besetzung von Putzlicht ist es das erste Mal, dass seine Band zwischen zwei Alben komplett zusammenbleibt. Niels Frevert scheint angekommen zu sein: zwischen den Stühlen, auf der äußeren Umlaufbahn oder einfach nur auf dem Weg zum ewigen Weiter.

'Unconscious Collective' is the first album by PS5 - the new ensemble led by Pietro Santangelo (Nu Guinea, Slivovitz, Fitness Forever) - and it will be out for Hyperjazz Records on 21th May 2021.

It's a musical experiment where layered memories and hidden feelings resonate as if they arise directly from the most recondite part of the unconscious and produce a suspension of the stream of consciousness. With the aim to create a state of trance and override the human reason, this is an imaginary round trip across the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean, ideally connecting Naples with North Africa and Latin America.

The arrangements wrote by Santangelo are based on great freedom of improvisation: while the melodic textures of the two saxophones didn't give any clear references, the other musicians followed the rhythmic pulse and its unpredictable ways. The music moves naturally along an imaginary line highlighting the ancestral connection between Jamaica and Ethiopia or between Nigeria and Cuba. In the background, Naples is a synthesis of all the sonic ingredients, mixed and cooked in its own mystical and spicy belly.

Besides Santangelo himself on the tenor and soprano saxophones, the collective is made up of: Paolo Bianconcini, a brilliant Neapolitan percussionist with a very deep Afro-Cuban background; Giuseppe Giroffi, young and talented alto and baritone saxophonist; the bassist Vincenzo Lamagna and the drummer Salvatore Rainone, both loyal members of the former Santangelo's trio.

Recorded live at the Auditorium Novecento in Naples, the legendary studio of Phonotype Records, 'Unconscious Collective' is mixed in analog format by Fabrizio Piccolo, and mastered by Davide Barbarulo at his 20Hz20KHz Studio.

Pietro Santangelo

Pietro was born, lives and plays in Naples. As a saxophonist and composer, he has released five albums with Slivovitz and one with his PS3 trio (Clinamen, Emme records 2017). Graduated in Digital Sound Processing at the Faculty of Physics of Federico II University, he is involved and engaged in the Italian scene of radical improvisation (Franco Ferguson, Elio Martusciello and Officina Arti Soniche, Collettivo NISE).

Multi-instrumentalist since forever, he has collaborated with Nu Guinea, Enzo Avitabile, Fitness Forever, Marzouk Mejri, Dennis Bovell and many others.

He's also author of soundtracks and electronic musician. He appreciates analog photography, loves walking outdoors. He hates biographical notes.

Creating an introverted version of restrained electronic music Berlin-based artist Constantijn Lange releases his second album 'Liquide' on Heimlich Musik. The album is based on sketches created in isolation during the second pandemic year. The compositions are characterized by self-reflection and an attempt to translate the abstract experience of listening to oneself into a concrete form. The sound of personal isolation, the necessary withdrawal from the world and the restriction of all social contacts is, therefore, less club oriented and focused on functionality than an expressive concept of ideas, rather oriented on Trip Hop, Breakbeat, Ambient and Jazz. The collective rediscovery of shared experience results in arrangements of melancholic but optimistic melodies recorded with vintage synthesizers, supported by complex drum patterns and diverse percussions that create a signature sound as a new liquid amalgam.


Constantijn Lange is an electronic music composer originally from Ostfriesland now based in Berlin. Besides several releases on Laut & Luise since the early days, his productions appear on labels like Get Physical, Traum Schallplatten, Sinnbus, Platon Records, Egoplanet
and many more.
His passion for thick layered synth melodies, jazzy and kraut – like vibes, atmosphere recordings, deep basslines and selfmade percussion designs give his music a recognizable vibe which can be heard on nearly every production he was involved in so far. He spends a lot of time in his studio in Berlin, working on new music, remixing other artists and also engineering for other sound projects in the art scene. On top of that, he performs as a liveact in clubs and on festivals all over the planet where his music can be described as very emotional and personal. Repeatedly this amazed people in countries like Germany, Russia, Poland, Switzerland, South Africa, Austria, Belgium, Mexico and
many more.
Constantijn’s ambition as an artist is to constantly evolve his productions and create music
which carries emotions and energies into the clubs, to festivals and living rooms alike.

Back in print for the first time since its initial release during lockdown in 2020!
The music of Current Joys has captured the imagination of millions through headphones and laptop speakers across the world. Rattigan's deeply emotive and commanding songwriting feels built for solitary walks or contemplative nights in one's bedroom, and that is why a Current Joys live performance is a whole different experience altogether. On Live At Kilby Court, the band rips through a stacked setlist of fan-favorites transforming these bedroom ballads into adrenaline-pumping anthems, creating an overwhelming feeling of togetherness.

Strawberries ripen in the spring. Or so they used to, in a more reliable world, one that seems to be rapidly receding in our collective rearview mirror. Presently, “spring” is a troubled concept — fraught with anxiety. Our seasons, if they are seasons at all, are paradoxical. Crops fail, or they ripen prematurely, all at once, and into a burst of rot. Impossibly, somehow, the supermarket shelves stay stocked (mostly, for now at least), and there are buckets of strawberries on every corner. But, of course, their nature is suspect. And they don’t taste like they used to. Or maybe that’s just ruinous nostalgia. But somewhere along the way we certainly lost something. Everybody knows.

Strawberry Season (Leaving Records, November 9 2022) responds tenderly to this sorry state of affairs, not with false comfort — nor escapism. Rather, the album conveys, often wordlessly, that there remains an abundance of sweetness amidst our increasing unease. While much of twentieth century American popular and folk music may have dwelt on the beauty and plenitude of the prairie, More Eaze applies a similar Romantic focus to the small bursts of fecundity that now hide in plain sight. Blending found sound, generative music, a knack for elegant, classically-informed melodic arrangement, and a sort of Liz-Fraser-by-way-of-hyperpop approach to vocals, Strawberry Season offers unique solace — providing an occasion for the kind of deep listening that our overstimulated and undernourished spirits require if there is to be any hope at all (and of course there must be hope).

More Eaze (serving as composer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, producer, and sound artist) guides us incrementally to this locus of attentiveness. Strawberry Season begins with the softly sweeping gentle pets. Early intimations of Velvet Underground give way, indeed, to a string arrangement that John Cale might have saved for Paris 1919. The second track, Suped, features a kaleidoscopic swirl of grocery checkout scanners that eventually coalesce and release with the subtle strumming of a harp. On known, in the midst of a nearly elegiac outflow of feeling, a shower starts to run. Someone steps inside, pulling the curtain back, sending the plastic rings clattering. Moments later, the unmistakable sound of the showerer blowing their nose — an inclusion that is at once light-hearted and jarringly, movingly intimate.

Strawberry Season’s second to last song, low resolution at santikos, serves as a sustained meditation on all that has come before it. Building slowly throughout its nine minutes, teetering, at times, on the edge of danceability, it dissipates suddenly, and Strawberry Season concludes with the rustling of clothes, snippets of distant conversation, creaking floorboards, an exhale and a sniff. There is a feeling of having arrived, of temporary reprieve in the face of uncertainty. A hint of a season yet to come, or one that is perhaps only now accessible in dreams.

The Schnitzelbeat goes on ..... und wir finden uns am Übergang zweier Jahrzehnte wieder. Woodstock hat gerade das offizielle Ende des Summer Of Love besiegelt, die Beatles befinden sich im Stadium des Zerfalls und The Stooges läuten mit unbarmherzigem Lärm ein neues Zeitalter ein. Zurück in Österreich ... die Stadt Wien dämmert weiterhin selig im bornierten Mief der Nachkriegszeit. Gelegentlich weht der Wind den Klang einer Ziehharmonika und eines Jodlers vom Land in Richtung Stephansdom. Die eingeweihten Hörer der Schnitzelbeat-Serie ahnen es allerdings bereits: da war noch etwas Anderes, etwas Wildes, Ungutes, ein dröhnender Faustschlag in die hornbebrillten Gesichter der Spießbürger. Doch wer hätte gedacht, dass die gelungenste Annäherung an den Proto-Punk der Blue Cheer oder MC5 ausgerechnet auf dem Volksmusiklabel Alpenton erscheint? (Albatross, "I am dead"). Da fährt schon ein Aufschrei des Entsetzens aus der Lederhose. Und ein Lächeln puren Glücks in die Gesichter aufgeklärter Fans obskurer Rockmusik. Auch The Seals erweisen sich 1969 als würdige Kämpfer im Krieg der Generationen: "You know nothing about the new generation / because you live in the U-Bahn-Station" stellen die Psychedelic-Punks aus Wien interessanterweise in ihrer Nummer "Stop this War" fest. Und auch sonst ist der Krieg ein geläufiges Thema: der 2. Weltkrieg (The Cop Stigh, "War History"); der Vietnamkrieg (Maybe Hair, "War"); der Krieg der Geschlechter (Young Society, "It's War"). Doch was wäre die Zeit der Hippies und Kommunarden ohne freie Liebe, Blumenarrangements und von allerlei Substanzen unterstützte Ausnahmezustände? "Nicht auf die Blumen in dem Haar, auf euer Herz kommt es an / denn Liebe nur allein alles ändern kann" singt die Casting-Boyband The Wallflowers, aufs trefflichste begleitet von einem Kinderchor, der leider nicht immer ganz textsicher ist. Die Aussage an sich würden aber sicher auch The V-Rangers unterschreiben ("Make Love"). Oder Hannes, Erich, Peter und Arno von der Salzburger Beatband Les Marquis, die einen Westcoast-Liebestraum an den Stränden des Salzkammerguts lebendig werden lassen ("Sand on the Shore"). Zur Halbzeit von Schnitzelbeat Vol. 3 wird ein unvergesslicher Höhepunkt gereicht. 1973 veröffentlicht Rocky F. Holicke die ultimative psychedelische Hymne aus heimischer Produktion: "Ready for Take Off" ist ein unbeschreibliches Monument eines Songs, eine wahrhaft überirdische Erfahrung musikalischer Transzendenz. Wenn es schon über die Wolken geht, dann bitte so, Herr Reinhard Mey. Und natürlich auf Holickes eigenem Label, Aero-Sound. Wo sonst? Während Hide & Seek auf den Spuren von Cream wandeln und ebenfalls von jeder Flugangst befreit durch den Orbit segeln ("I can fly"), blasen aus den Triebwerken von Karl Ratzers Gitarre längst sengend heiße "White Flames". Der legendäre Musiker und Frontmann der Charles Ryders Corporation ist nicht nur einer der besten Jazzgitarristen die Österreich je hatte - er nimmt es auch mit James Marshall Hendrix auf, wenn alle Effektpedale bis zum Bühnenboden durchgedrückt sind. Etwa zur selben Zeit findet sich eine oberösterreichische Ministrantenband - heimlich, nächtens - am Wochenende im Musikzimmer einer Mühlviertler Volksschule ein. Und nimmt dort eine brandgefährliche Granate hochexplosiven, psychedelischen Garagenpunks auf. Mit mehr Fuzz, Wah-Wah, Echo und Farfisa-Orgel als selbst der Leibhaftige persönlich erlaubt hat (The Hush, "Giny"). Und dies ist nicht die einzige weithin unbekannte Super-Rarität, die der Archivar, Subkulturforscher und Rare-Track-DJ Al Bird Sputnik und sein Team von den Trash Rock Archives zusammengetragen haben: die verschollene erste Single von Novaks Kapelle erscheint hier erstmals in einer komplett restaurierten Version, ohne Nadelhüpfen und mit relativ wenigen lästigen Nebengeräuschen ("Garbage Man"). Von den lediglich 10 angefertigten Exemplaren der einzigen Platte der Austrian Brothers ("Brother") konnte die einzige Kopie ohne Pressfehler aufgetrieben werden. Und um endlich der 7" von The Cop Stigh habhaft zu werden, musste sogar jemand sein letztes Hemd verkaufen und die Hose bis zu den Knöcheln runterlassen. Aber "All right", um es mit den Worten der steirischen Acid-Rocker Generation 2000 zu sagen: es hat sich ausgezahlt. Schnitzelbeat Vol. 3 fügt der vergessenen Frühgeschichte der österreichischen Rockmusik wieder zahlreiche faszinierende Kapitel hinzu. Begeben Sie sich mit Al Bird Sputnik und den Labels Konkord und Digatone auf eine weitere Reise in die Tiefen wohlsortierter Plattenkisten und pilgern Sie vor einem Himmel voller Schwedenbomben und Mannerschnitten über Gebirge verzerrter Gitarren in die entlegensten Regionen der österreichischen Popkultur. NOVAK

The Well & The Gentle, two of the major works of Pauline Oliveros, are presented here in a first time reissue on double vinyl in a gatefold sleeve with extensive liner notes.

If Oliveros had followed a more conventional path she may have, all social obstacles aside, been considered among the major composers of her time. However, Oliveros approached composition in a more egalitarian manner. She wrote music for musicians to interact with or, in the composers words, she wished to create "an inclusive and interdependent and unfolding world of relationships."

Oliveros' propensity towards inclusion is part of what makes this work so remarkably distinctive. The Well & The Gentle is carefully crafted, allowing performers to participate in the creation of the work. Players are asked to collaborate, focus, react and make imaginative choices. Only then can the performers "pass through stages of awakening to the possibilities inherent in making music, working together, leading to the essence of what can shape musical impulses and individual freedom simultaneously."

Unlike most major composers of the era, Oliveros' work focuses on collaboration and improvisation. For Oliveros, the processes involved in making music are as fundamental as the music itself. Oliveros creates, as Arthur Sabatini put it so eloquently in the liner notes, "A world in which sound and the practices entailed in making music merge; become, at once, source and atmosphere, energy and essence, presence and dynamic."

Pauline Oliveros was an electronic music pioneer, accordionist, composer and educator who resided in Kingston, New York. Her instrument was tuned in Just Intonation and she often included it in her meditative improvisational music. Her music is not meditative in the sense that it is intended for listening to while meditating, rather each piece is a form of meditation, such as her aptly titled Sonic Meditations.

A central figure in post-war electronic art music, Oliveros is one of the original members of the San Francisco Tape Music Center (along with Morton Subotnick, Ramon Sender, Terry Riley, Steve Reich and Anthony Martin), which was the resource on the U.S. West coast for electronic music during the 1960s. The Center later moved to Mills College, where she was its first director, and is now called the Center for Contemporary Music. Oliveros often improvised with the Expanded Instrument System, an electronic signal processing system she designed, in her performances and recordings.

Taka Noda AKA Mystica Tribe has been releasing deep music on vinyl since 2011 on labels including SD Records, Solar Phenomena, Silent Season, and his own Mystica Tribe Records. Working in the dub/techno continuum, he is one of only a handful of artists who creates brilliant tunes at both ends of the spectrum, from heavy, psychedelic warehouse techno to beautifully orthodox reggae-infused dubwise. For his first ZamZam, he leans hard into the latter.

Noda describes his approach to these tunes as a “virtual live band,” and while “the only real live instrument is the melodica, I wanted to capture the energy of a live band with this song.”

A master of both melody and rhythm, Noda does exactly that with “Ido” (which means a well for water). The mood hits immediately with a loose & confident groove built from impossibly-live sounding drum work, a perfect orthodox bassline, and achingly beautiful interplay between piano, clav, and melodica. Somehow both melancholy and bright, it captures that moment when winter gives way to the first hint of spring, sun finally breaking through clouds after months of rain and darkness.

Rather than a simple dub of the A side, the version is a complete rebuild of the tune. “Ido - Renren Version” (which means flowing like tears, or a river) drops the tempo down to 120 but goes harder rhythmically in spite of its slower tempo. Opening with a stark, dark, and menacingly driving bassline and warped dub siren, the vibe is completely transformed from above-ground to below. Hard percussion, new melodica parts, and 4-4 hats & kick take it into that full post-punk dub territory that the world needs more of. Much more!!

Run by Gabriele and Paolo, Italy based newborn label Sunny Crypt's first output is a reissue of the sought-after "Random Rooms" album by Danish poets and multidisciplinary artists Niels Lyngsø and Morten Søndergaard. Both attending the Literature university in Copenhagen, they were linked at first by a mutual passion and fascination towards music - or rather "sound" - even before unveiling each other that they were writing poems. Niels and Morten started bringing their solo homemade DIY sound experiments together, giving birth to a wide genre-spanning album that ranges from slow tempo mutant disco to folk inspired synth-pop to sound collages and more musical compositions that is fairly complex to put in a precise musical genre box.
First released in 1992 on the same day as their debut poetry collections, Random Rooms should be a house or a flat or an exhibition space that you could walk through and in each room you would come across something new. A fusion of genre and bits and pieces of culture and play.
A kaleidoscope of past, present, and future.

Future Jazzers, notorious experimentalists and outfield eccentrics stumble onto the dancefloor. In the 90s. In the UK.

From an electronic music perspective, the period 1992 to 1996 in the UK that this compilation celebrates, was one of dizzying sonic diversification.

It was also a particularly turbulent time in the UK, not only politically and economically, but also culturally too. Economic catastrophe in ‘92 was followed by widespread poverty, a cost of living crisis and countless political scandals. Meanwhile, John Major’s Tory government pandered to its political base via unpleasant, authoritarian legislation that seemingly sought to crush rave culture, alternative lifestyles, and traveller communities. The UK was not so much a ‘Happy Land’ – to quote the name of this compilation – as an angry and divided one. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

Throughout, the music created by producers based across these Isles remained uniquely British, speeding up a process begun in the late 1980s through the emergence of street soul, bleep & bass and breakbeat hardcore – musical styles whose roots in multicultural inner-city communities made them distinctly different from the Black American sounds that had inspired their creators. It was here, rather than in the indie pubs of Camden, that real musical revolutions were taking place.

This deep diving selection brings together some truly adventurous and original electronic music from this period, much of it very hard to find. Major label outings connect with white label oddities with ease. Perhaps it could even be argued that many of these unearthed gems fit more easily into DJ sets in 2023 than they ever did at the time. The off-kilter swing of Richard D James’ obscure and highly sought after Strider B outing, ‘Bradley’s Robot’ is joined by further rare cuts from Cabaret Voltaire and the Black Dog, and artists as diverse as Ultramarine, Herbert, Fretless AZM, and Radioactive Lamb, amongst others.

This collection has been lovingly selected, compiled and mastered for maximum sonic playback. This very special release boasts sublime pastoral themed artwork, as well as informative and passionate liner notes by celebrated music scribe Matt Anniss (‘Join The Future’).

Savage Mode II is a collaborative studio album by Atlanta rapper 21 Savage and producer Metro Boomin. The 15 song album serves as a sequel to the duo's extended play Savage Mode (2016). It features guest appearances by Drake, Young Thug and Savage's cousin Young Nudy. Savage Mode II received widespread acclaim and debuted atop the US Billboard 200. It was supported by two singles, "Runnin" and "Mr. Right Now". Specialist promo/marketing activity.

Pentiments continues its work spotlighting post-conceptual artist and writer Joseph Nechvatal. They have already dropped a retrospective Selected Sound Works album that spans 1981-2002 and now comes a companion across two slabs of wax that focus on more recent audio works. This is in cahoots with Andrew Deutsch and it makes use of anonymous reading of Virginia Woolf's 'Orlando' as an anchor point around which the "virus-modelled artificial life audio material" from Nechvatal's 2006 piece viral symphOny: the enthrOning is reanimated. The second then uses a rather controversial record performance of Antonin Artaud's radio play To Have Done with the Judgement of God which the artist takes apart and reweaves into something radically new.

By now a regular and esteemed presence among the Discrepant sprawling household via releases with projects such as Alförjs or Jibóia, Mestre André "resurrects" his O Morto alias (bad pun somewhat intended) after 2016 'The Forest, The People And The Spirits'. With a diaristic approach where field recordings function as remnants of his surrounding reality and subsequent memories to be processed and recontextualized into an expressionist whole, O Morto expands that previous Discrepant release sonic palette unto uncharted cartographies. 

Based on a number of field recordings taken during a life-changing trip to Morocco that felt like a fever dream, 'Dans La Gorge D'un Monstre' reenacts that hazy and hallucinatory mindframe through five tracks where no vivid recollection persists, tainted by the extrasensory feeling of not being quite there. A sonic fiction that goes from the processed cymbals and pummelling drums of 'The Gorge' with Andrés' mates in Jibóia, through moroccan Gimbri player Ayoub El Ayady and Khalid Boulhaman’s rattling Krakebs on 'Lila' and the slowed down Eccojams vibes of 'Out of the Atlas' to the dreamy aquatic soundscapes and arpeggios of the appropriately titled ‘Princesas Batráquio'. Comprising the whole of the B side, 'A Desert of Rain' is a slow evolving wonder where gong-like tones drift beneath scrambled transmissions of unknown origin, eventually giving way to synapse inducing drone motifs and scraps of realities collapsing among themselves - fire into water, a jetstream into steps, maybe none of this. 

Along with the LP, the release comes with a companion piece tape titled 'Iffrits Habitent', a more impressionistic and unadulterated account of the same travel that could well be this side of the mirror. Then again, maybe he never made it from the other side. Who's to know?

With his new album, Gecko Turner confirms that he is a standout artist in the global groove scene, a must for the outernational sounds aficionados.

Somebody From Badajoz is the fifth studio album in his much lauded discography and his first in seven years, eagerly anticipated by both his fans and himself: "this business of dedicating yourself to music and making songs... it's a long game."

With the release of his first two, remarkable, albums, Guapapasea! (2003) and Chandalismo Ilustrado (2006), Gecko started cultivating what one astute journalist defined as Afro-maduran soul—the "maduran" bit referencing Extremadura, a region in central-western Spain.

Badajoz, Gecko's birthplace, is the biggest city in the area, on the border with Portugal, by the Guadiana River. It is a place that oozes history, where there is constant movement at the border, and people's character is friendly and open-minded with foreign habits.

Gecko's Afro-maduran soul isbuilt on Afro-American music and drenched in Brazilian, African, Latin American and Jamaican sounds. There are also echoes of a youth marked in equal parts by our man's admiration for the Beatles and the flamenco that could be heard everywhere in Badajoz in the seventies. It makes for a singular sound and a musical language of its own—spicy, succulent, full of nuances, but with a very personal flavour.

The album opens with the Nigerian talking drums of Twenty-twenty Vision, (neo) soul in a magical falsetto, carried by a sumptuous orchestral arrangement with a cinematic flavour: "I'd been thinking about doing something called 'Twenty-twenty Vision' for some time, making a play on words with the vision we have of the world after the year 2020 and the medical expression, which, in ophthalmological terms, means 'normal or complete vision.' Beyond that particular song, I think that's the mood of the album: a look at society in the twenties of the 21st century and the feelings and demons it produces."

It's followed by De Balde, a very special song born from a posthumously discovered lyric by the great writer Carlos Lencero, a regular collaborator of Camarón, Pata Negra, and Remedios Amaya, and also from Badajoz. While conceived as a fandango, Gecko has moulded it into his sound in such a seamless way it now seems as if the words could only have been written to be embraced by the percussion, brass, and backing vocals heard on the album. It's the only lyric on Somebody From Badajoz not written by Turner, still it sits rather comfortably with the rest, sharing the same emotivity and sensitivity, as well as the trademark humour and irony.

Other tracks see more protagonism for the rhythm.The beat-driven Ain't No Fun Preachin' to the Choir features Gecko's vocals walking the thin line between singing and talking over a phenomenal afro-disco-funk-infused trailblazer. In Am I Sad? it's impossible to not bob your head to the queen of Papatosina's mongrel rhythm, as close to the banks of the Guadiana river as it is to the shores of the Mississippi. Qué Siesta Tan Buena, He Babeao Y To! is an ode to the snooze in true Afro-Maduran fashion. And in Come And Try, the Caribbean influence is evident—lovers' rock that invites you to dance in good company.

In these songs, and throughout the album, for that matter, the musicians accompanying Gecko, who himself plays many of the instruments as well, shine brightly. All hailing from Extremadura, Javi Mojave (percussion), Álvaro Fdez 'Dr. Robelto' (bass), and Rafa Prieto (guitar) have been carrying him with delicate forcefulness since he started out as a solo artist. At the same time, the wonderful and essential voices of Deborah Ayo, Astrid Jones, Fani Ela Nsue, and Miriam Solís give the album a sunny variety of colours. And there are many more—a sensational group of musicians contributes dazzling harmonic bursts to many of the songs. The palette of sounds is very diverse and rich in textures and nuances, including, for example, the ngoni, bells, and various repurposed kitchen utensils.

The groove is always around, moving between the magical border sound of Everybody Knows Somebody From Badajoz and Little Dose, the silky soul of The Sibariteo Appreciation Society, and the exultant celebration of End Of The World (which surprisingly sees Gecko turning to the occasional use of autotune), a piece that could be used for the final credits of a Monty Python film and, in fact, closes the album.

Gecko Turner has done it again with Somebody From Badajoz, looking to the future without losing sight of the roots. In times of upheaval all over the globe, when people are looking for purity, he delivers a formidable piece of work: risky, optimistic in spite of everything, and with a decidedly bastard sound. Let's rejoice.

Close to five years on from their last transmission, Ulrika Spacek resurface from self-imposed exile with their third album, Compact Trauma, a collection of songs that function as a chance treatise of sorts for our current collective condition. With a title like that arriving at this point in time, it's tempting to interpret the record solely in the context of the global events of the past few years, but the roots of these ten songs arc back much further in time, charged with their own personalised internal damage. Trauma, in its myriad forms, is often hard to qualify, even harder to rationalise. When something begins to go wrong, how do you gain perspective? What is a temporary roadblock, and what is unmitigated disaster? In its first phase of life, Compact Trauma was a document of a band striving to perfect an idea while the universe around them seemed to want to shut down. And then, at an impasse of sorts and with a record halfway complete, it suddenly did. If Ulrika Spacek were a band in need of the breaks applying, it was the force of a global pandemic that made it happen. As the world stood still, Compact Trauma was filed away, unfinished and unheard by the wider world, possibly to remain that way forever. And yet, there was to be a second act. If mutability is our tragedy, it's also our hope, clearer days slowly began to emerge as the bad slipped away. The wound, as the saying goes, is the place where the light enters you. The prolonged break enforced by myriad lockdowns may have separated the group but it also afforded the five time to reflect on what had already been committed to tape.. As the lights came back on and the shutters up, they found themselves drawn back towards Compact Trauma. What they rediscovered was a record that seemed to preempt the shared grief of a global pandemic. Even if the specifics were different, the themes were uncannily similar. Addressing existential freak out, displacement, substance reliance and encroaching self-doubt, these highly personalised songs suddenly took on a wider significance, speaking in part to a bigger narrative. They could have left it alone, but in coming back to what they knew, Ulrika Spacek found their best work yet. RIYL: Mercury Rev, Sonic Youth, My Bloody Valentine, Radiohead, Deerhunter, Atlas Sound, Stereolab.

Split LP mit sechs Songs jeder Band. Die langjährigen Freunde Angelic Upstarts & Crashed Out haben sich für diese großartige Split-Veröffentlichung zusammengetan – endlich erhältlich. R.I.P Mensi & Feedback.

After his superlative and rather unexpected foray into Afro and Latin fusion with his Sol Set project, John Beltran returns to more familiar territory with a rendition of his classic mid-90s album 'Ten Days of Blue' recorded at this year's Dekmantel in Amsterdam. We get a real feel for the whole gig experience, from the sound of murmured anticipation and intro tape to the resolution at the outro and the main meat of the music itself - lively, optimistic, groovy but understated and chilled at the same time - sits somewhere between his ambient and harder techno work. Among Beltran's very finest output.

Mark Grusane's latest offering, A House of My Own is a testament to his long-standing discipleship to the craft of producing hard-hitting house tracks with authenticity and depth. The title-bearing opener on A1 strongly demonstrates this notion with a slew of raw bass stabs and emotive pads leading through a battery of driven percussion in a manner that calls to mind those early 90's Mr. Fingers records. While A2's Essence of Life (Afterhours Mix) takes us further into the darkness with a spiraling timber of percussions lain over distorted vocal arrangements, the "Daytime Mix" of A3 builds on the momentum of its predecessor with a robust uplifting synth lead and sounds of atmospheric ambiance added to the mixture, effectively taking the composition to an entirely new level. B1 kicks off punching and swinging with the track Knock knock, Who's there?, a ferocious gut-puncher of a track that sees classic Chicago "beat-track" style 909 arrangements lay over an intense saturated 303 bassline that relentlessly worms its way throughout the mix with a booming urgency. B2 sees a turn for the naughty on the track Love And Lust with a xxx-rated vocal line slithering its way through the track, sandwiched in between high-pitched keys and a slinky drumline. Finally, Jack Your Ass Off closes out the album and ties it all together on B3 showcasing the full-fledged insanity of the classic trademark Chicago "jack" style that sees the title of the track frantically screamed over and over though a sampler amid hard hitting drums and 303s engineered to make you dance like a freak. A serious 'must have' for any selector or music enthusiast.

I:Cube has made a new album. It is a very “hands on” album, as the eight tracks on show were created almost entirely by improvising with electronic hardware – synthesizers, sequencers, drum machines and effects units – and recorded in real time, with very little after-editing. It is also his first album in a decade, should you be keeping track.

During the time he spent recording it, which was in part inspired by the processes behind his ‘Cubo Live Sessions’ series, I:Cube had fun, experimented, unleashed the raw, primitive energy of his machines, and emptied his head of thought. The resultant tracks are instinctive, immersive and otherworldly, driven by the emotion of the moment rather than the formulaic structures of dance music. They are unpolished and immediate, but also immersive and sincere.

Think of it as a soundtrack to time spent alone in the studio, daydreaming in darkness and light, translating mental and physical messages in real time. It is not calculated, overblown or over-produced like much modern electronic music, but gently odd, engaging and pleasingly rough round the edges. In some ways, it is I:Cube’s most personal and emotional album to date.
Matt Annis

As soon as the pilots of the Space Oddities endeavour decided to tackle Yan Tregger's oeuvre, a major problem surfaced: where to begin? And where to end? Upon which side should one launch into the ascension of this body of work? It will have taken Alexis Le-Tan and Jess years to put up this selection, capturing the profusion and eclecticism of Tregger who, at 81 years old, has yet to lay down the arms and still defines himself as a "jack of all trades". Symphonies, library music, movie soundtracks, TV credits, advertisement, French variété, pop, disco, electronic, experimental or relaxation music, Yan Tregger (born Edouard Scotto di Suoccio) took up all genres, styles and formats through a career spanning from the end of the 50s to this day. How the Stakhanovist successfully went down so many different routes can be explained by his innate talent for composing melodies; they are the very basis on which his iconoclastic production was built. Ten years ago already, Yan Tregger had welcomed us in the studio of his Parisian suburb pavilion. There, sat in front of his machines and albums framed on the wall, he had delved into the midst of a life writing itself like would a rather unusual musical score.

Metropolis Metropolis three vinyl set is an abbreviated version of the most recent Electronic Music soundtrack for Fritz Lang's Metropolis (1927) by the Techno music producer and cultural icon Jeff Mills. Unlike his first soundtrack where tracks addressed specific segments of the film in a track listing form, which was created and released in 2001, this version is more a symbiotic mix of compositions that proposes a nuanced representation of the plot and storyline.

As an electronic symphonic music creation, Mills proposes a few interesting points in the schematics of this album. 1- the positioning and role of the listener as the soundtrack is based on the environment of the scenes, rather than pure transcription, 2 - as a storyline that takes place in the year 2000, the choice of sound elements refer to some future commonality and foresight between the genres of Classical and Electronic music - between man and machine.

And 3, in many parts of the soundtrack where sounds are played in unison. This is symbolic of the hopefulness the storyline works towards.

"Creating music for Fritz Lang's masterpiece film "Metropolis" over the many years has been and continues to be a great experience. The film is a story about "man vs man" with the help of a machine. It's dramatic theme is as relevant now as it was when the filmed debuted in 1927. A film to enjoyed, but also noted and examined." - Jeff Mills

A recreational offshoot of the band Pleasure, Portland's Lights Out were led by their trumpeter Tonmy Collins as a way of staying musically exercised, pushing the envelope and getting a few local bookings on the side when Pleasure weren't on the road. Their sound started out as jazz fusion but they soon developed into a monstrously funky synth/-led funk rollercoaster. as vocalist Andy Stokes and guitarist Greg "Gee Mack" Dalton fronted the band.
The four tracks here were recorded as a demo for Solar Records in 1982 at Wave Sound Studios - a facility more used to housing punk acts such as The Wipers and The Rats - but the label 'fumbled' it and the band fellow apart soon after. Some 40 years on, the likes of 'Surrender Your Love' and 'Tonight' still sound fresh as the proverbial daisy, and likely to lure feet onto the dancefloor.

Four new tracks from Eb Flow mark the latest release from the ever prolific Constant Sound label, as ever providing solid and dependable dancefloor gear that boasts a myriad of different flavours. 'Sunshine' wastes no time setting up a strutting, Van Helden-esque groove and lets it roll, adding a few vaguely nostalgic samples on top. 'Running' has more of a breaks feel, harking back to the days of rave's roots when breaks and acid could sit together naturally rather than in different genre pigeonholes. 'Before' is the most minimal of the four, peppered with frisky garage snares and a subtle but ultimately devastating filter breakdown, while a feelgood gospel-style vocal gives the closer, 'Searching', a lovely optimistic tint. Constant Sound continue to deliver.

Neapolitan producer Partenope certainly wears a big Underground Resistance influence on his sleeve in the case of 'Odysseia' - it's even mentioned in the press release, and we're not going to argue either. But it's no bad thing, especially as it's a general love of the soulful, uplifting, musical end of the techno scale rather than a creative plunder of any UR track in particular. The label has pulled out the big guns with a Gerd Janson remix to accompany it too, and Janson certainly warm acid trance

On her third album, Berlin-based Dutch-Italian composer and sound designer Aimée Portioli, aka Grand River, asks what guiding forces might be driving, enticing, and affecting us. “All Above” is rooted in her deeply personal philosophy as an artist, blurring the boundaries between electronic music and acoustic music and sculpting familiar ambient forms into personal themes painted with rich emotional colours. Written painstakingly over the last two years, the album is the most ambitious and divergent set of music Portioli has assembled so far, with a wide variety of instrumentation (including voices, strings, organs, guitars, and synthesisers) focused around the piano. She‘s keen to assure listeners that while that instrument isn‘t always heard, it‘s constantly at the forefront of the album, shepherding its emotions and anchoring its mood. It makes sense then that on the opening track ‘Quasicristallo’, the acoustic piano is the first element we hear, recorded closely, so its characteristic rattle and creak can speak as loudly as the familiar tones themselves. When the music blooms into abstraction and processed electronics, it‘s almost imperceptible: reverb mutates into ghostly vapour trails, and distortion forms the keys into another instrument entirely.

“All Above“ follows 2020‘s acclaimed “Blink A Few Times To Clear Your Eyes“ and 2018‘s “Pineapple” released on Donato Dozzy and Neel‘s Spazio Disponibile imprint. Having garnered praise from outlets like Resident Advisor, XLR8R, The Quietus, Inverted Audio, and The Verge, Portioli operates in a unique space within the electronic music scene, straddling the art world and the wider electronic music scene. She‘s developed sound art installations for Rome‘s La Galleria Nazionale and the Terraforma Festival-related Il Pianeta, and has appeared at Barbican, MUTEK, Le Guess Who?, Kraftwerk, and other internationally renowned venues and festivals, often collaborating with Marco Ciceri on A/V presentations. Ciceri also maintains the visual identity of Portioli‘s label One Instrument, a concept imprint that asks artists to create music only using a single device. All this experience is poured into “All Above”, a richly visual album that‘s far more than just an imaginary film score. While on ‘Human’, her piano punctuates a rhythmic synthesised bassline and smudged choirs that can‘t help but trace out the silver screen. The composer is keen to clarify that she doesn‘t think of her music (or sound in general) in visual terms.

Portioli studied as a linguist and used her art to develop an emotional language that‘s not bound by expected cultural constraints. When she adds a different instrument or process, it‘s not to reference a visual cue but to mark a journey through different states of being. Each element embodies a different emotion or mood: the electric guitar represents strength or violence, synthesisers shuttle us into the dream world, and the acoustic instruments highlight intimacy and warmth – even heart. Read like this, the tracks are like meditative poems rather than cinematic vignettes: ‘The World At Number XX’ is seemingly centred around a chugging synthesised arpeggio, but the cosmic, Klaus Schulze-esque pads, strangled guitar and evocative organ tones hint at the open-hearted, literate psychedelia of the 1970s; ‘In The Present As The Future’ meanwhile is breathy and windswept, juxtaposing urgent rhythmic phrases with light, flute-like gusts of harmony.

Dedicated to Editions Mego founder Peter Rehberg, who died suddenly last year, “All Above” demands engagement and refuses to evaporate into the background. The album asks listeners not just to absorb the album as a whole but notice the cracks in the structure and discern the tension they cause. That‘s never more evident than on the closing track ‘Cost What It May’, a piece of music almost jarring when Portioli chops into noisy waves of electric guitar. In the wrong hands, this might sound like a power move – some rock posturing to act as a finale. But Portioli‘s expression is different. She‘s forcing a level of engagement that perceives the negative space as just as necessary as the saturated positive, and what could be more haunting and emotionally resonant than that?

Composed, produced and mixed by Aimée Portioli.
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu.
Cut by Andreas Kauffelt at Schnittstelle, Berlin.
Photography by Federico Boccardi.
Design and layout by Riccardo Piovesan.