Cerca:loose records

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Louisville, KY hardcore conquerers, Inclination, have announced their debut album, Unaltered Perspective, due out June 24th via Pure Noise Records. Unaltered Perspective proves why Inclination have been turning so many heads in their relatively short existence. The album features a seemingly endless well of vicious riffs courtesy of guitarists Caleb Murphy and Isaac Hale (who also plays with heavyweights Knocked Loose), while bassist Peter Katter and drummer Christopher Mills provide an earth-shaking foundation. And the towering sound is the perfect delivery system for vocalist Tyler Short's roaring voice and pointed lyricism.

Louisville, KY hardcore conquerers, Inclination, have announced their debut album, Unaltered Perspective, due out June 24th via Pure Noise Records. Unaltered Perspective proves why Inclination have been turning so many heads in their relatively short existence. The album features a seemingly endless well of vicious riffs courtesy of guitarists Caleb Murphy and Isaac Hale (who also plays with heavyweights Knocked Loose), while bassist Peter Katter and drummer Christopher Mills provide an earth-shaking foundation. And the towering sound is the perfect delivery system for vocalist Tyler Short's roaring voice and pointed lyricism.

LP in gatefold sleeve. Sam is a young songwriter, a singer and a musician, but he's a sketch artist at heart.Dawn/Dusk became the perfect sketch, loose yet meticulously crafted. Boundless, yet beautifully framed.

Heady with hooks and unforgettable melodies, gliding on deeply danceable grooves, always with Air Waves’ innate compassion, concision and uncanny pop sense shining throughout. A masterpiece that’s beautifully simple, instantly accessible and entirely addictive. Featuring Cass Mccombs, Skyler Skjelset (Fleet Foxes, Beach House), Luke Temple, Brian Betancourt (Hospitality, Sam Evian), Rina Mushonga, Frankie Cosmos, Lispector, David Christian, Ethan Sass, and Ben Florencio. ‘The Dance’ has waited three years to see the light of day and it comes to us now, blinking, smiling in the widening light of 2022 feeling more needed and necessary but also more joyous than ever before. It’s both a snapshot of these songs as they were recorded but crucially, in the intervening time those songs have had additional arrangements crafted by Nicole, created remotely and virtually, with a few like-minded collaborators. The result is simultaneously Air Waves freshest, most spontaneous yet finessed album yet. Nicole Schneit released their first independent album in 2009 under the Air Waves moniker, a name inspired by a Guided By Voices song - subsequent albums like 2010’s ‘Dungeon Dots’ (which featured a guest vocal from fellow Brooklynite Sharon Van Etten), 2015’s ‘Parting Glances’ and 2017’s stunning ‘Warrior’ crystallised Schneit’s vision of loose-but-focused, convivial but startling pop. ‘The Dance’ continues that trajectory but finds Schneit opening up their music to a more fluid sense of space and movement, while keeping their lyrical eye between the personal and the political, from the specific to the universal with a haiku-like directness and suggestion. You won’t find a better soundtrack for the solidarity, strength, romance and movement we all need right now than ‘The Dance’ - Air Waves’ best album yet // “There is a rawness, both musical and emotional, proving that the simplest ways to communicate feelings are sometimes the most effective” Pitchfork // “More varied and ambitious than ever” Stereogum // Track List A1 The Roof (feat. Luke Temple & Rina Mushonga) A2 The Dance A3 Star Earring (feat. Lispector) A4 Alien (feat. Cass McCombs) B1 Black Metal Demon (feat. Frankie Cosmos & Merce Lemon) B2 Treehouse B3 Wait B4 The Light B5 Peer Peer

Contemporary DIY Street Soul, New Jack, Electro Funk studio project from Parisian DJ Raphaël Top-Secret & Antoine Kogut (Syracuse).

For lovers of Loose Ends, Larry Heard, Mad Professor, Strafe or Sade. This EP includes two smash-hit A-side remixes by LA and Vancouver underground celebrities Benedek and Pender Street Steppers (PPU / Mood Hut) that sound like 1986 or 1992 !

Original versions are found on the B-side with “Give It Up”, a smooth and romantic 112 bpm G-Funk jam that is the perfect track for your drive to the coast, while “The Way They Do …”, a 98 bpm dreamy electronic AOR indie-pop dubby, will take you to an island.

Using original vintage gear as the TR-808, Emulator II, DX-7 and Rhodes, electric guitar, studio bass arrangements, the release shows sophisticated skills in the production stages, while being a very refreshing pop and dance release.

A stunning debut for the Cachette label !

The first album of Web Web is very uncut, raw, live and direct. Oracle is the first output of a German Supergroup. Check the musician credits below and you'll get the score. The initial idea was to record a spiritual-jazz type of album, with all its imperfection as far as intonation, sound, influences of tunes... just like from their big jazz-heroes in the 70ies (e.g. Strata East, Black Jazz).

Web Web's idea was to record a jazz jam session while to found and proclaim being a fictive band, a formation, which did not exist, while telling people, it would be a secret jam session recording of the Seventies. The prompt problem they were facing: Oh, we never would be able to play concerts, doing interviews, or placing photos on sleeves or post likeness images online. So they decided to reveal their real identities:

Web Web are: Roberto Di Gioia (Piano, Synth, Percussion), Tony Lakatos (Tenor- and Sopranosaxophone), Christian von Kaphengst (Upright Bass) and Peter Gall (Drums).

Roberto Di Gioia (Mastermind of Web Web): - The four of us set up very close in a big room, so we could hear and feel each other the best way. The music became more intensive, improvisations became more dynamic and it was impulsive .

The album Oracle' was recorded on one day, only first takes were used!

We want to keep the burning spirit and the loose vibe we had during the recording session. And we play concerts the wild and free way we recorded this album. Web Web will be on tour 2018, but playing a few concerts in 2017.
Furthermore, one main decision to blab their real identities was: The second Web Web album is recorded in June (with guests like the famous and unique Gembri-player and multiinstrumentalist and singer Majid Bekkas from Morocco).
Both albums were engineered, recorded and mixed by Jan Krause (Beanfield, Poets Of Rhythm).

Roberto Di Gioia: - Tony was tuning his Soprano too high, and his (overdubbed) tenor way too flat!
My synthesizers were somewhere in between...HA! We exactly had the sound we had in our minds, we had it exactly there were we wanted it: a bit of Sun Ra here, a bit of Horace Tapscott there. On some tunes Tony's soprano just sounds like a trumpet, since due to his weird tuning the soprano develops different frequencies in relation to other instruments.

Oracle' is the first live jazz release on Compost. Produced by Roberto Di Gioia and Michael Reinboth.

Roberto Di Gioia has been working with numerous jazz-legends, such as Woody Shaw, Art Farmer, James Moody, Johnny Griffin, Charlie Rouse, Clifford Jordan, Clark Terry, Roy Ayers, Gregory Porter and many more.

From 1990 to 2008: member Klaus Doldingers Passport. As a pianist he made recordings with Udo Lindenberg (MTV-Unplugged, 2011), Charlie Watts ( Music Of The Rolling Stones , 2005), Console ( Reset The Preset , 2003), The Notwist ( Shrink 1998, Neon Golden , 2002). Since 2007 he is working together with Samon Kawamura and Max Herre as KAHEDI: Max Herre ( Hallo Welt , 2012), Joy Denalane ( Gleisdreieck , 2017), u.v.m...His own group MARSMOBIL (produced by Peter Kruder) will release his fourth studioalbum in winter 2017.

Tony Lakatos originates from the world famous Lakatos-familiy from Budapest, Hungary. His father was a famous violinist, as well as his younger brother Roby. He started playing saxophone when he was 15 years old. Tony studied at the Bela-Bartok-Conservatory in Budapest, and made his degree in 1979. Since then he played on over 350 jazz albums (!!), to name a few: Al Foster, Kirk Lightsey, Randy Brecker, George Mraz, David Witham, Terri Lyne Carrington, Anthony Jackson. Tony was a member of Jasper Van´t Hofs PILI PILI. Since 1993 he is working with the HR Radio-Bigband as a soloist.

Christian von Kaphengst learned the piano at the Peter-Cornelius-Conservatory in Mainz when he was 6 years old. From 1988 to 1995 he studied upright-bass at the - Musikhochschule in Cologne. He was touring with his own Jazzquartett - Cafe du Sport to Pakistan, India, Turkey and West-Africa. Since 1999 he regularly plays with Patti Austin and The New York Voices in Europe. Von Kaphengst played with the greatest musicians, such as Randy Brecker, Nat Adderley, Roy Hargrove, Joe Sample, Charlie Mariano, Katja Ebstein, Xavier Naidoo, Roachford, Yvonne Catterfeld.

Peter Gall won some important German awards already when he was a youngster, like - Jugend Jazzt . He was touring with the famous - Bundesjazzorchester conducted by German jazz legend Peter Herbholzheimer. He studied at the Berlin University Of Fine Arts and at the Jazz Institute Berlin with John Hollenbeck. Gall made a masterclass at the Manhattan School Of Music with John Riley. He has been working with Seamus Blake, Ben Street, Gabriel Rios, Jasmin Tabatabai, Thomas Quasthoff, Peter Fessler.

Musicking is Old Time Relijun's tenth studio album.The record pounces fierce with the protest anthem "Break Through". Arrington De Dionyso's voice has gained some grit and even more gravitas. Like an overloaded speaker, he booms the words into the stratosphere. "Break through the wickedness, break through the lies, Break through the glass; don't stand in my way!" The band hits the groove and the vibe moves through the eleven songs swiftly - like Panther Juice and Rum. It does not stop, it does not let up, it does not let you sleep.Musicking is the latest example of the Old Time Relijun push and pull. They are the rarest breed of musical combo - - - insatiable, living raw, always on the margins, consistent as hell. You know what to expect, and yet haven't a clue what's coming next. Old Time Relijun conduct sweaty, compulsively danceable performances that never fail to inflame. Their songs are simple, but no one in the world could imitate them. Their albums are packed with sing-along hits mixed with sonic experiments and cosmic jests. The loose swagger belies years of practice, fastidious arrangements and a gut-level understanding of musical how and why.

Dreamers is the new project from the legendary British saxophonist and composer Mark Lockheart featuring Elliot Galvin (Dinosaur, Elliot Galvin Trio), Tom Herbert (Polar Bear, The Invisible) and Dave Smith (Robert Plant). Stylistically free and psychedelic in nature, the release of Dreamers signals a new trajectory for the musician who has already featured on a wide ranging and diverse catalogue of albums including Radiohead's Kid A. As a founding member of Loose Tubes and Polar Bear, Mark Lockheart has always remained ahead of the curve and has constantly explored new directions in his own music. Dreamers epitomises this adaptation and evolution, allowing the music to speak beyond the boundaries of genre and predictability. Mark has created an album which is direct and unpretentious but also surprising and unexpected.

Tresor Records are proud to reveal the outcome of a new collaboration between two of techno music's most remarkable artists, Maedon and Adam X. The Lion & The Ram is a unique and exciting hybrid of industrial, rave, and hypnotic techno sounds. This LP marks the full debut for both artists on Tresor Records, with Adam X having appeared for a remix of Neil Landstrumm in 1997. Both Berlin-based, Maedon and Adam X have worked tirelessly over the forced Lockdowns, finding a kindred spirit in locating and sculpting the most badass kick. This album is undoubtedly an impressive representation of the range of kick drum synthesis, from thunderous impacts to carefully tuned pulses.
The duo's competitiveness over kick drums has led to a masterpiece of mesmerising techno. Across the thumping drums and sparse, mechanical soundscapes,
every track on the album follows a journey into the dark and unknown.
Tracks grow with increasing power sourced from dystopian samples, such as Human Replacements, "people are being duplicated, there is something missing". It reflects the stifled time we all spent, haunted by uncertainty, cooped up and seeking expression. Corrupt Pigs emphasises this with the refrain, "welcome to the land of fuck". Crunching bass and rusty percussions gather as a herd, like a rallying call to signify that, at last, we may let loose. With its unrepentant rhythms and ruthlessly brutal sound design, The Lion & The Ram discharges Maedon and Adam X into daring new terrain.

When Lannie Flowers set out to write and record his follow up to acclaimed 2010 album Circles, he had no idea how long the journey would take him. Circles was the second installment of an arc that began with the Pengwins frontman’s solo debut Same Old Story (2008) and would be finished with the new record, Home. The idea was that the three records would loosely trace his life from teenage romance though the rock and roll travel years and ultimately address getting off the road. Home was lovingly recorded and mixed and took longer than his fans wanted. Upon release, Home garnered enthusiastic critical reception and made numerous Top Ten Album of lists of 2019.

“If you can’t say it, you don’t have to,” sings John Fullbright on “Bearden 1645,” the opening track to his new record “The Liar,” out September 30, 2022. The song details Fullbright finding refuge in playing the piano, starting as a child and still today. For fans, it may feel like a bit of a rebuttal to “Happy,” the opener from 2014’s “Songs,” one of several in his repertoire that speak explicitly about mining one’s angst in order to make music. In that way, “Bearden 1645” is also a firm nod to the fourth wall: Fullbright knows you’re thinking about his songwriting. He is, too…but not quite the way he was before. The public at-large hasn’t heard much from him since the critically lauded “Songs,” a chasm of eight years that seemed unthinkable for an artist with so much hype surrounding his early career. Why did it take so long? “Honestly, I don’t know, and that’s been the scariest question to think about and the hardest one to answer,” Fullbright said. Maybe it was a tacit rejection of mounting industry pressure, mixed with a little fear. Or maybe it was the adjustment to a massive upheaval of his way of life. Whether we bore witness or not, it’s been a critical period of change for Fullbright, now in his 30s. Since his last release, he moved out of rural Oklahoma—the aforementioned Bearden has a population of about 130 people—to Tulsa. Once there, he worked to build a place for himself in the context of an established and vibrant musical coterie, performing often as both a bandleader and, more curiously, a sideman: storied loner John Fullbright lugging a piano from this small stage to that one with an uncharacteristic looseness. “It’s been a process of learning how to be in a community of musicians and less focusing on the lone, depressed songwriter…just playing something that has a beat and is really fun,” Fullbright said. “That’s not to say there are no songs on this record where I depart from that, because there are, but there's also a band with an opinion

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three years after Reno Wurzbacher’s entry into the series, Cook Strummer now offers up his own Berlin Gets Physical, a collection of all-new and exclusive tracks.

Berlin-based, Belgium-born Strummer has been a Get Physical associate for several years. He has dropped various singles including the standout 'Rising' which also featured on the Words Don't Come Easy series, and always crafts the perfect mix of rhythm and melody with plenty of hints of his homeland's famous cold wave sound. He often uses his own voice, drum machines, synths and guitars in his music, and since his debut album in 2018 on LOK Recordings, he has had high profile support from the likes of Laurent Garnier, Adam Port and Ame. This summer, he dropped 'Atmosphere' on Obsolet Records which proved another successful outing and now Berlin Gets Physical finds him digging deep into the famous city's freshest and most essential house sounds across 15 well-sequenced tracks.

His own new offering 'For Berlin' kicks off with a dark and edgy vibe, gothic vocals and tense drums. Glitchy hits and blurting synths add to the prickly atmosphere and immediately lock you in while Los Cabra & Manuel Sahagun's 'Italian Groove' then takes off on waves of serrated dark disco synths and Freudenthal feat. Nowhere People continue that macho disco vibe with the rugged chug and cosmic rays of 'Cipher.'

The twinkling 'Bad Karma' by Marvin Jam & Le Mythe then allows you to catch your breath with a slower, more spacious dub disco sound and the twanging bass riffs and exotic effects of Daniel Jaeger & Valenti's 'Quarantine Cowboys' rebuilds the atmosphere with some innovative house blues. The mid-section brings brain-frying synth work on 'Out Of The Blue', bubbling dub house and disco courtesy of dramasquad's sprawling 'ziggy' and percussive deep house looseness from 'Abayomi.'

After KEENE's rubbery and rolling Afro sounds comes more cosmic house richness from Dan Buri and Max Joni & MUKKIMIAU, the driving tech of Red Pig Flower & Lulla and heady sounds of Mike Book. There is a raw house heaviness to FreedomB's 'State of Shock' and things shut down with Electronic Elephant's tightly coiled minimal drum funk on 'Ask Yourself'.

This on point collection is an authentic snapshot of the contemporary underground sound of the Berlin.

Sunny Sweeney, a genre-bending songwriting spitfire who has spent equal time in the rich musical traditions of Texas and Tennessee, returns with 'Married Alone', the celebrated singer-songwriter’s fifth studio album and the follow-up to 2017’s critically acclaimed 'Trophy'. Co-produced by beloved Texas musician and larger-than-life personality Paul Cauthen and the Texas Gentlemen’s multi-hyphenate Beau Bedford, Married Alone is Sweeney’s finest work yet, bringing together confessional songwriting, image-rich narratives and no shortage of sonic surprises for a loosely conceptual album about loss and healing. "Before I made this album, I did two things I’d never done before. I saw Stevie Nicks in concert with Fleetwood Mac, and I toured with Bob Seger. While Waylon and Loretta are tattooed on my heart and I’m deep-rooted in fiddle, steel, and twangy telecaster, this time, I channelled my deep love for rock icons Stevie, Tom Petty, Neil Young and Bob Seger in a way I never have before. I married ethereal rock vibes with the grit of a country lyric. Paul Cauthen took the helm as producer and brought in the stellar Beau Bedford and Jeff Saenz to complete the trifecta to get the sound we were going for. The majority of the album was recorded at Modern Electric Sound Recorders in Dallas, TX and features some of the band members I play with every night on tour. I want my fans to be able to take home that live experience, the guitar tones, fiddle solos - I leave everything on the stage each night and I want people to feel that in this recording."

14 brand-new songs of destruction and dastardly deeds - Worth it's
weight in crack, this is the soundtrack for The New Dark Ages
The album is loosely based on their new graphic novel which is on sale in comic
book stores simultaneously. In addition, their award winning documentary This Is
GWAR will be showing in theaters and on streaming platforms this Summer.
nterest in the band is reaching a new peak following their wildly successful fall
2021 headline tour which included many sold out dates. Blothar is also now a
monthly recurring 'alien correspondent' on Gutfeld which airs weekly on Fox
News.

This album presents two multichannel works recorded at the seminal INA GRM Studio in Paris and ZKM Institute in Karlsruhe respectively, mixed to stereo at the composer's Cellule 75 Studio in Hamburg with excellent mastering by Rashad Becker. While his releases under the Black To Comm moniker often touched the fringes of acousmatic techniques and Musique Concrete this is Richter's first foray into a more abstract spatial music.

Recorded in the week leading up to the Paris terror attacks at the GRM studio, "Diode, Triode" (21:57) is loosely based on a reading of (and, in parts, a failure to understand) "Le Parasite" (1980) by Michel Serres, a philosophic metaphor about human interaction and communication (which can also be interpreted as a lyrical essay on capitalism; part confusion, part enlightenment).

As core elements Richter is using speech synthesis and the transformation and distortion of concrete sounds, instruments, voices and breathing. Abstract incognisable sounds are combined with strings, reeds and percussion while dismembered musical fragments emerge and vanish rapidly. Chunks of interfering noise are followed by long periods of silence; chaos and order are alternating. Choirs of synthetic and processed human voices are recounting stock market values, seemingly random sequences of numbers and inscrutable lyrics while parasitic sounds are trying to crack, collapse and fractionise the compositional stream and sonic interactions. Finally, a haunting piano chord is wrestling with a broken Publison machine. Like the book, it's part confusing, part enlightening - and a radical piece of sonic art.

"We are buried within ourselves; we send out signals, gestures, and sounds indefinitely and uselessly. No one listens to anyone else. Everyone speaks; no one hears; direct or reciprocal communication is blocked." (Le Parasite)

"Diode, Triode" was premiered on the Acousmonium at INA GRM's Akousma Festival in Paris, January 22, 2016 alongside new works by François Bayle, Robert Hampson, Leo Kupper and Ragnar Grippe.

The second piece "Spiral Organ of Corti" (17:00) has been composed in 2014 for the 47-speaker Klangdom concert hall at ZKM Karlsruhe at the foot of the Black Forest (where Richter was born and raised).

How does one listen with closed ears? Sine tones, alienated human voices and breathing noises build a labyrinthine puzzle alternating between the natural and the artificial. Human sounds merge with winds and strings, sine tones morph into metal sounds. Acoustic illusions confuse the listener, and dense noise-clouds slowly emerge from deceptive silence. Deep base sounds define space. Temporary focus glides into chaos. "Spiral Organ of Corti" is yet another extended composition that proves Richter is on a path of his very own.

"Spiral Organ of Corti" is dedicated to the late Gary Todd.

"Tongues that came from wind and noise. To speak in tongues after the fire." (Le Parasite)

Marc Richter records as Black To Comm for Thrill Jockey, Type and Dekorder and under the Mouchoir Ètanche and Jemh Circs monikers for his own Cellule 75 imprint. He collaborated with visual artists such as Ho Tzu Nyen, Jan van Hasselt and Mike Kelley. Under his own name he is composing for film and installations.

Finally it’s here! After many years, the repress arrived. This time how it was supposed to be. With new cover artwork and newly mixed songs. It's a rare but exhilarating occasion when you put on a new LP and are utterly blown away by what you hear. Every now and then, music makes you feel magically alive -- makes you want to jump around, pound your fist in the air, and shout "Oh, yeah!" Listening to Grand Fury, the second major release by Los Angeles quartet the Bellrays, is such an experience. Imagine the Funhouse-era Stooges fronted by a female R&B singer instead of Iggy Pop, and you'll have a vague understanding of what the Bellrays call "maximum rock 'n' soul". Although they've drawn comparisons to the Stooges or the MC5 fronted by Tina Turner, Etta James, or Aretha Franklin, the Bellrays rightly point out that soul was an important element in those Detroit-area punks' sounds. So, in some ways, the Bellrays are just bringing out an element of early punk music that was there all along. Nonetheless, the resulting sound is startlingly unique. Lead singer Lisa Kekaula has also sung jazz, and it's obvious she has technical skill, but she tears into these songs with a venom and passion that is pure rock 'n' roll. Bandmates Tony Fate, Bob Vennum, and Ray Chin provide a raw, blues-edged backing that is loose enough to allow Kekaula considerable room to go wild. And does she ever. With her raucous voice and the aggressive songs penned by guitarist Fate, Kekaula makes you believe she'd sooner spit in your face than look at you. "I'm stuck inside a moment / Can't find my way out / And time keeps draggin' on" she sings on "Fire on the Moon", but the confident way she spits out the words makes you believe she could claw her way out of anything. Likewise, Kekaula's indictment of "Stupid Fuckin' People" is so fierce it's almost scary. When she snarls, "Stupid fuckin' people always get in my way / Want to ruin my piece of the world" you know you'd better get out of her way. The only time this sonic assault slows down is on "Have a Little Faith in Me", a sexy soul number that Janis Joplin would have been proud to sing. While Kekaula's amazing voice and charisma are key to the Bellrays' sound, the rest of the band has to be commended for rocking so hard without drowning out that fierce set of pipes. With all the over-produced pap dominating the airwaves, hearing a band this raw and raucous is a dream come true.

Labyrinth is dark, brooding, beat-heavy, melancholic mood music courtesy of Ian Carr and the Nucleus crew. A favourite of Madlib, it goes without saying that this is one magnificent record. Originally released on Vertigo in 1973, Labyrinth was never re-pressed and of course those original copies are now very tricky to score. Like all the Nucleus records, it’s aged ridiculously well and this Be With re-issue, re-mastered from the original analogue tapes, shows off just why this deserves to be back in press.

Genius trumpeter and visionary composer Ian Carr was one of the most respected British musicians of his era. He was a true pioneer and saw the potential in fusing the worlds of jazz with rock, just as Miles Davis and The Tony Williams Lifetime did in the US. In late 1969, following the demise of the Rendell-Carr quintet, and tiring of British jazz, Carr assembled the legendary Nucleus. Regarding music as a continuous process, Nucleus refused to “recognise rigid boundaries” and worked on delivering what they saw as a “total musical experience”. We can get behind that.

Under bandleader Carr, Nucleus existed as a fluid line-up of inventive, skilled musicians. This constant evolution and revolution was all part of the continuous musical exploration and discovery that took jazz to new levels. And the music has kept relevant. To steal a line from a recent review of our re-issue of Roots, when it comes to anything Nucleus “it’s basically already hip-hop”.

At this point Carr had parted ways with guitarist Alan Holdsworth and as a result the Nucleus sound found itself returning to the core elements of groove and melody. Carr had become bolder and more self-confident in his compositions and it shows in the sheer ambition of Labyrinth. Composed by Carr, and with lyrics written by his wife Sandy, Labyrinth was the result of a commission from the Park Lane Group and funded by the Arts Council of Great Britain. Originally a live performance by an augmented Nucleus, some of the expanded cast were brought back for the recording sessions, including vocalist Norma Winstone. So as the front cover of the finished album says, this is literally “Nucleus Plus”.

Labyrinth is presented as a suite, based on the ancient Greek legend of the Minotaur with musical instruments representing the various elements of the mythology. According to the LP’s original sleeve notes, the bass clarinet represents the tragic element, the trumpet represents the heroic element and the voice represents the human element. The rest of the musicians represent the two societies of Athens and Crete and their comments on the story as it unfolds.

The album opens with the experimental, sumptuously dissonant “Origins”. Teasing strands of atmospheric bass clarinet introduce the first theme before swiftly fading out with a startling blast of staccato fanfares and big drums. Heavy. The album soon finds its rhythm as it alights on the spell-binding and groove-friendly “Bull-Dance”, showing off the best Nucleus has to offer: subtle trumpet melodies, compelling rhythms, a psych-rock vibe and tight soloing. And of course there’s Norma Winstone’s stunning wordless vocals, that also take the lead in the next track “Ariadne”, a spacey-jazz song with beautiful piano, flute and clarinet, and the only recognisable lyrics on the album. You might recognise a snatch of it being looped by Madlib on Quasimoto’s “Astro Travellin”. The first part of the improvised “Arena” closes out the first side of the album, a short experimental piece with piano and horns.

Over on the flip-side, the powerful second part of “Arena” introduces a new theme. It swiftly builds, with vocal melodies, piano and horns all pronounced over the thick drums snapping your neck. It comes on like an alternate take on “Bull-Dance”, noisier, with a looser rhythm. The triumphant, shuffling Latin-jam “Exultation” leans on more scintillating vocals from Winstone, and a chunky counter melody from the rhythm section. It’ll get you moving.

The final track, the haunting, twelve minute “Naxos”, is an incredible way to close out this remarkable record. A circling bass guitar loop inspiring the group to a meditative psychedelic jazz rock improvisation in a silent, Miles kind of way, with a great flugelhorn solo from Carr and an ace synth climax.

This Be With edition of Labyrinth has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Pete Norman’s cut to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. Another great Keith Davis sleeve has been restored in all its airbrushed Golden Age of comics, gatefold splendour. Complete with Minotaur of course.

THE LONG AWAITED AND CONSTANTLY DELAYED LP VERSIONS ARE FINALLY AVAILABLE-

want to take you on a journey. Not to their Russian homeland, but beyond that, to a place not on any map where the trio’s dreamy “celestial blackgaze” can properly get beneath your skin and into your mind. With their fourth album, Istok, their first for Candlelight Records, they’re pushing even further into the unknown. The band formed in 2013 in Saint Petersburg, following the breakup of similarly blissful-minded outfit, Princ Persii. Though not wanting to limit themselves to a genre, the “celestial blackgaze” fit so well that it stuck – descriptive enough to catch their vibe, loose enough to have no walls. Available across 5 physical formats: CD / double transparent grey vinyl / double metallic ice vinyl / double baby blue vinyl / double black vinyl.

"What took you so long?" might be a valid question concerning the ten year gap between Zanshin's new album "In Any Case By Any Chance" and his first album "Rain Are In Clouds".

Of course it is a question that the Viennese musician has asked himself quite startled in his usual self-critical manner, just to realize at a closer look that it has not been a lack of creativity or laziness at least. He used the Zanshin moniker on four EP releases and several remixes, plus a game soundtrack. Not to forget all his output as one half of producer duo Ogris Debris (the album "Constant Spring" from 2016 and roughly two dozen singles and remixes) and the many, partly award-winning audiovisual installations and performances with Leonhard Lass as DEPART (depart.at). Furthermore he has also built two sound installations in 2021, "I Gong" at Elevate Festival and "Cymatic Sands" at Ars Electronica. In addition, Zanshin performs with the Max-Brand-Synthesizer from time to time as part of the compositions by Elisabeth Schimana, and together with label mate Dorian Concept he has also composed and performed the piece "Half Chance/Music for Moogtonium" for this unique instrument, built by Bob Moog himself.

Not spared by certain global developments of recent years, but rather invigorated by exploring his own resilience, Zanshin had a talk with Affine Records Operator Jamal in the beginning of 2021, speaking of future ideas and releases. And what was initially a single release spawned into a whole album in seemingly no time. An old skit ("Polar Polychrome") on the Roland MC-505 groove-box that had never really been forgotten, but was rather waiting patiently somewhere in the back of his mind, suddenly proved to be the initial spark for the album.

The term "Zanshin", roughly translated as un-focussed attention, is in fact more than just a pseudonym but rather a directive in the artists life. Zanshin really likes to go in several directions at once, kind of according to Wittgenstein's claim that "The world is everything that is the case.", to find out where his love for music might lead him this time. He also somehow went back to his roots with this album. Not necessarily in the sense of certain musical influences or genres, because then the album would be even more eclectic than it already is. More like a focus on the core values in the fabrication process of the music itself, the freedom to rather follow the structures and sounds than to shape them in a completely predetermined way. Somebody once called it, "to weave what the music demands."

In this regard, Zanshin often feels more like a sculptor and tries not toadhereto strongly to the rules of specific sub-genres of electronic music. Searching for sounds and designing them is one of the energies that fuels his interest the most, thus at the beginning of a lot of tracks there are small skits and ideas that have the freedom to grow in whatever direction.

Hence this album has no elaborate story to tell, there is no extensive "narrative" or big time "storytelling" at work. "In Any Case By Any Chance" is not a novel but rather a collection of short stories (which are certainly dense and have complex plots nonetheless). The result is a long-player where playful electronica, skillful songwriting, extrovert dance music and symphonic film music enter into a symbiotic relationship. Returning to another Wittgenstein quote, "Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent", the emotional impact of music is the main focus and the results can be quite solemn at times, but around the corner always lurks the next bone-breaking rhythm pattern and gnarly sound design.

The infamous saying, "writing about music is like dancing about architecture", is another brick in the wall of sound in Zanshin's approach to music. He rarely roots himself in traditions or uses them too overtly, he really likes to agglomerate sounds, to challenge the listeners. It seems like he tries to avoid classification on purpose, because he knows that everyone has their own perception anyway. The only thing that this music demands implicitly is a willingness to listen attentively.

Very dense, at times really heavy and massive, then again airy and playful. "Music for clubs that don't exist.", might be another fitting caption to describe this album, which lasts for a little more than an hour.

The opener "Heatseeker" rushes to a sudden head start with its steel pan extravaganza, tropical vibes meet a bass line drenched in electro funk, and electrified synth stabs support the declaration of love in the lyrics. Kind of Jamie XX meets Electro meets Diva House. The monster that is "Bronteroc Brawl" is up next, a serious test for the speakers and a wild ride with metallic, growling sounds. The aggressive sound design reminds of suspense ridden shark chases, vicious dogs and cunning dinosaurs, in any case a track for people who love a proper bass stomper.

A new approach for the "indie discotheque" brings the emotional roller-coaster "In Gloom" with snappy drums and hypnotic synth motives á la Alessandro Cortini, creating an epic atmosphere together with the multi-layered vocals. A psycho-acoustic treat is position 4, the crisp instrumental "Polar Polychrome", you could even go as far as calling this a Zanshin signature track. Like mentioned before, the roots of this track go back to 2002 and you can hear the unmistakable influence of beat wizards like Photek, a piercing bass line is supported by poly-rhythmic drums, while dense pads try to escape the claustrophobic lockdown mood of winter 2020/21.

Another round of intense pathos waits for the listeners in the ensuing track "In Search Of". Moderat say "Hello", a melancholy piano melody is rushed to a climax by a wild bass arpeggio and forceful drums, the desire for a perfect sunrise at the next after-hour to the max. Initially just an appendix to the preceding track, "Time After Thought" swiftly developed from a mere improvisation to an ambient epic with a croaking alien piano, as if Keith Jarrett were on his way to Alpha Centauri.

Up next is the first single "Because Why", a breakbeat driven, synth-heavy track with winged vocals and a popular film quote. The title refers to the movie "Alphaville" by Jean-Luc Godard, a dystopian science fiction film noir, in which an omniscient computer system named Alpha 60 is ruling society and humans can only say "because" but never "why". As if the gears of a galactic mechanism were spinning into motion sounds "Identity Slices". A raspy chord structure finds its counterbalance in a kind of stumbling, wonky beat, and Zanshin would never deny the huge influence that Autechre's sounds and structures always have had on his music. Micro- and macrocosm meet on the same level and this friction is also a metaphor for questions of identity and self-awareness, without using voices or lyrics.

Off we go into the IDM bubble bath of "Enzyme Enigma", the bass drum is stomping and a fizzy acid-line is twisting in all directions behind rolling dub-techno chords. "Corrosion Creak" is a kind of acoustic degradation process, the rave dogs are finally let loose and everything happens at once, funky synths shred, string sounds wail and then there is this bass that sounds like smashing a rusty metal plate in the junk yard with a vengeance.

Towards the end everything slows down a bit, the beat in "Whatever Words" is Warp school cerebral hop at its best and therefore loads of glittery, creaky sounds swarm out until the synapses are overloaded, cumulating in a mighty bass ending. Last but never least, "Rebus Redux" guides us into the limitless night sky, with long indulgent pads dotted by an aimlessly wandering piano, while a compact net of tamed resonances and meandering sub frequencies unfolds in the background, enticing navel-gazing imagination.

Demian Sky is a meticulous beatmaker, experienced musician, committed record store
manager, passionate DJ as well as excessive record collector and music enthusiast. His instrumental hip-hop debut »A Kraut Tale« is a narrative sound journey on 18 tracks. The song structures, the musical concept and the overall atmosphere of the record show very clearly that his influences are not only in hip-hop, but also in psychedelic and prog rock of the 60s and 70s. There are also some references to works of DJ Shadow, Dan The Automator, Cut Chemist, Gaslamp Killer and such. It is all the more astonishing that, contrary to possible expectations, all samples come from old German Schlager and Folk music records. The result is not a loose collection of individual pieces of music, but rather a coherent album with its own dramaturgy in two chapters.

REPRESS

Acid bass, slow funk and cosmic energy make for a mind expanding trip in the Liquid Canoe.
Load up on edibles, make it a macro-dose and let the music lead the way.

Whether you’re hard at work on a Hamburg allotment, basking in the heat of a Balinese beach or enjoying the cool waters of the Salish Sea, remember that the same sky stretches over all of us.
And if you forget your finger for a minute and soak in the heavenly beauty instead, you might just catch the cosmic vibrations of Liquid Canoe, the latest members of the Growing Bin family.

A loose ensemble, Liquid Canoe is the brainchild of Wolfgang Matthes, a lost Angelino who’s swapped the rush and push of a mega city for the space of the Pacific Northwest - and listening to this eight track offering, you’ll realise that space is the place. Armed with an array of vintage synths and programmed rhythms, Wolfgang sketched out a slew of inter dimensional transmissions, inspired by the commune electronics and space rock of 70s Germany and inhabited by the spirit of the boogie. Inviting friends to drop by and lend their own instrumental skill, Wolfgang quickly turned Liquid Canoe into a true collaboration. Finalised in a converted stable on Galiano Island, the LP is a perfect marriage of the electronic and organic, shimmering arps and spheric synth bass intertwined with American primitive guitar, nuanced hand percussion and glassy chimes. As this mind expanding collection stretches out towards infinity, you’ll hear Floyd-ian funk, cosmic dub, tangerine daydreams and micro-dosed ambience, all imbued with the memories of New York lofts, Bay Area warehouses, skyscraping pines or the world wide web of fungi. Liquid Canoe taking you on an oarsome trip.

After Dinner’s Paradise of Replica is a concise nugget of tomfoolery that occupies a whimsical no man’s land between art pop, Japanese folk music and full-assed Art Zoydian avant proggery. Gentle, arcane and covertly sweeping, it typifies that friendly strain of experimentalism that Eastern music seems so predisposed towards and which curious minds find such great delight in.

Assembled by the enigmatic chanteuse and composer known simply as Haco, After Dinner was less a band and more of a loose art collective that utilized a plurality of different musical disciplines stapled together through free improvisation sessions. And some of this does come through on Paradise of Replica—the record is a scrapbook of bells, strings and koto humming under Haco’s ethereal vocals, and the effect, while perfectly tuneful, does come off more as a musical project than a conventional album.

But Paradise of Replica is far from an impenetrable scholastic endeavor—in fact, there’s something of an Elephant 6-like quality in its ability to warp conventions while still coming off more or less like pop music. Counter to the ramshackle hostility of much improvised music, After Dinner’s choices are melodious and feel deliberately sequenced. Even crescendos don’t tend to rise above a murmur, and there are even apparent hooks on tracks like “A Walnut” and “Ironclad Mermaid.”

Ultimately, there’s not much to be said about Paradise of Replica that can elucidate more than actually hearing it will be able to. Proggy, playful and lush, it’s a brief glimpse into something in the vicinity of genius, and just outside the realm of commercial music. It’s a quietly bold project that shows a softer side of the avant-garde, and makes a perfect companion to Stereolab and Magma at once.

THE ICONIC 1993 MASTERPIECE OF UK GOTHIC DOOM PRESENTED ON
SINGLE BLACK VINYL. My Dying Bride has been the leading light of doom
metal since the debut album "As The Flower Withers" was released on
Peaceville Records back in 1992
Influenced by acts such as Celtic Frost & Candlemass, the band's heavy
atmospherics have carved a huge worldwide following over the years & they
remain at the pinnacle of the genre & one of the most instantly distinguishable
metal bands.
Originally released on Peaceville in October 1993 & recorded at Academy Studios
in Yorkshire, 'Turn Loose The Swans' saw the arrival of long- time session
musician & classically trained violin & piano player Martin Powell. The album also
saw the band stretching & pushing the grandiose textures & epic doom dynamics
to create an opus of previously unrivalled atmosphere & stark emotion.
Fans & critics have since hailed 'Turn Loose The Swans' as the blueprint for the
new Gothic Metal genre, with many often still citing the release as among the
defining albums of the band's distinguished career.
This edition of 'Turn Loose The Swans' is presented on single black vinyl, now
with cover artwork from the original CD edition.

The ever masterful London based DJ/Producer Shy One is back with a new 5 track EP titled From The Floor To The Booth. Following on from the fuzzy, acidic haze of the vinyl only Crumb Trail 7 inch the new EP encompasses futher rich and eclectic sounds of Shy's musical heritage, London leaning from Broken Beat to Soul, Garage to Grime. The record journeys through and abstracts a variety of styles, tipping its cap to the archtectics of Londons musical underground from Soul II Soul and 4Hero to Loose Ends and Roll Deep. A notion every bit apparent in Shy's eclectic bass heavy, hi-energy club selections. The record is Shy One's most in-depth and ambitious release to date. The artwork is created by Herald Essuman of Artbox London. An incredible London based charity that supports artists with Autism and learning disabilities.

‘Learning To Dissolve’ is the punctuation on a journey that began with 2017’s ‘Sounds of Loss’. From the inception, ORTHODOX were nothing short of a standout, blending together riffs that wouldn’t be out of place on a Slipknot record coupled with Easterling’s blunt, Jonathan Davis-esque howls. But, like their sonic brethren in Knocked Loose or Vein.FM, while the influence of the 90’s/00’s is there, ORTHODOX doesn’t merely pay homage to their influences, it exceeds them. ‘From the beginning, we went in our own direction regardless of what anybody thought,’ states Adam. ‘We didn’t grow up listening to hardcore. We grew up on bands like Linkin Park and System of a Down.’ With ‘Learning to Dissolve’, those influences have refined themselves into a sound that is urgent and unforgettable from the album’s opening track, ‘Feel It Linger’ to the personal and aural meltdown of closer, ‘Voice in The Choir’. ORTHODOX ‘Learning To Dissolve’ is available as: Ltd. CD Digipak, 180g black LP+CD, Digital Album.

Cocoon Recordings presents: Cocoon Compilation T

Limited Vinyl Box Set including 6x blue vinyl & download code

Another year, another expertly curated compilation touches down courtesy of Cocoon Recordings. Somehow, the world keeps turning and with it the Cocoon universe keeps expanding, causing subtle yet persuasive shifts in the sonic soundscape that continue to
capture and captivate the imagination. In time-honored tradition the old guard and the new combine with devastating effect, to define the current state of play…
Veteran Techno producer Stephen Brown makes it clear the compilation series is back with a bang, opening things up in epic fashion with the lucid dreamscape ‘Level Steps’ - a true work of art. Another heavy-weight hitter steps straight up in the form of Claude von Stroke, who adds his own unique swagger to proceedings with those trademark shuffling beats and freaky, hypnotic bleeps scuffling for dominance on ‘Moody Fuse’. Denis Horvat then slows things down on ‘Monomono’, with post-raveNew Release Information
abstractions and disobedient synth-patches causing mayhem before the track finally unfolds in all its terrifying beauty.
Motoring on, the collection wastes no time reaching that familiar tipping point as we enter the techno phase of the journey. A very special appearance from Daniel Avery makes it all the more worthwhile amid a dense forest of chiming melodies and blistering electrical surges on ‘Your Future Looks Different In The Light’, before Jeroen Search’s aptly titled ‘Subversive Elements’ lead us deeper and
deeper, into the matrix.
Marco Bailey then kicks off a triptych of trance with some massive filtered piano action on ‘Kanai’ that’s destined to trigger a serotonin smile with everyone it touches. Revisiting the huge,
ever-growing pulsating brain of planet Orb, Damiano van Erckert continues the loved-up vibe on the gorgeously titled ‘500 People 500 Hearts 1 Love’, expertly complimenting the classic ambience with
some slick 909 snare and cymbal interplay. The melodic pull of ‘Vision99’ then signifies that the party is peaking at just the right moment as YOKTO concocts a glistening, psychedelic groove. The
emotional resonance climbs ever higher with brittle melodies endlessly circling a lush, throbbing bass drone to create the sense of something stirring out of reach.
Just when you think the acid sound is done and dusted, up pops a track like Jonathan Kaspar’s ‘CCC’ that somehow manages to offer an entirely new perspective. Riding in on a wave of expectant
arpeggios, the squelching bass and noise filter go toe to toe before Kaspar gets busy with a freaky tempo excursion that’ll be destroying dance floors all year long. ‘The Art of Electronics’ is, as the title
suggests, another superlative example of pure analogue fire, served up by UK legend, Andrew Meecham aka The Emperor Machine. The funk starts to flow as the bass drops, the machines cut loose and a swarm of cascading bleeps ride the trans-europa express to oblivion.
Electro overlord Carl Finlow, has come to define the UK take on the genre over the last couple of decades. Here, he makes his long overdue label debut, taking us into the closing straight with a
nervous sliver of dystopian futurism, complete with molten basslines and a fuzzy logic that underpins the tight, laser-guided groove on ‘Surface Control’. DeFeKT then draws this great adventure to a close
with the deliciously dark robo-disco overtones of ‘Terraform’ creating a dusky landscape that skillfully seduces the listener before the tension finally breaks in a wash of ecstatic chords.
All in all, it’s a supremely ambitious collection of tracks, generously featuring some of the most inspirational and durable artists of their respective generations. In fact, is this perhaps the best Cocoon
Compilation to date

Finnish Death Doom spearhead Kuolemanlaakso, starring vocalist Mikko Kotamäki, are about to release their first album in eight years. The new album Kuusumu was produced by V. Santura, who also took responsibility for producing the band’s previous records. In addition to his studio works, Santura is known as the guitarist of Triptykon and Dark Fortress. Kuusumu is the band’s fourth full-length album, and it will be out in 2022 via Svart Records. “The recording pause got unnecessarily long, but there’s no rush in doom. It was great to get back to work with the folks and catch up with some good friends as well. Kuusumu’s keyboards were played by Aleksi Munter (Swallow the Sun, Insomnium, Ghost Brigade) and Lotta Ruutiainen (Luna Kills) performed female vocals on the album. In my opinion we took many steps forward on Kuusumu”, guitarist-songwriter Laakso says. Kuusumu's texts are loosely based on the sudden global cooling that began in 535, leading to a 10-year winter, loss of crops, mass deaths of cattle and other animals, and famine. Climate change was most likely caused by massive volcanic eruptions, the fog of which darkened the sun for one and a half years, causing intolerable cold. Moreover, the plague pandemic that began in the Byzantine Empire in 541 swept across Europe, killing tens of millions of people during the climate crisis. “Our previous releases are autumn albums, so this time we decided to make a winter album. I came across the literature about those catastrophic events by chance, and got thoroughly inspired - especially by contemporary stories. It wasn’t long until the album material was there already. It’s spine-chilling to think that deadly climate change and a pandemic also raged 1,500 years ago when medicine, information flow and living conditions were in their infancy. There was no knowledge about electricity, for example. People imagined that the gods are angry and the darkness is eternal. One way or another, the power of nature should still not be underestimated,” says the band's artistic director Laakso. On Kuusumu, Kuolemanlaakso stretch their artistic boundaries even further. The album contains the familiar slow heaviness, but also more epic, faster and more polished material. The first single Katkeruuden malja, featuring Lotta Ruutiainen, represents the catchier and lighter side of the album. “Katkeruuden malja draws its inspiration from grief and misery. Musically it trips almost in the landscapes of Tribulation, but with longing, Kalevala-infused and, in my opinion, very Finnish melodies. Regarding singing, Kotamäki introduces new winds, and Lotta's parts really top it all off. The music video is like a visual extension of the cover art and the album’s lyrical themes, ” Laakso comments. The previous Kuolemanlaakso record Tulijoutsen (2014), reached the 10th place on Finland's official album list and was selected as one of the best records of the year on Soundi, Rumba, Kaaoszine and Imperiumi, among others.

Needle Mythology reissue a special expanded album edition of Finn, the album released by New Zealand’s most celebrated musical siblings Tim and Neil Finn to acclaim both from critics and long-time fans who had followed the pair’s work since their time in together in Split Enz. This is the first time Finn has received a vinyl release. Released in close collaboration with Tim and Neil, the newly-expanded Finn comes with an entire album The Finn Demos, which gathers together ten songs from 1989’s legendary Murchison St sessions, remastered by Miles Showell at Abbey Road Studios. Convening at Neil’s new Melbourne apartment with a view to making an album together, Tim and Neil embarked on an intensely productive period, writing several songs that would briefly result in Tim joining Crowded House for the resulting Woodface album. Assisted by the late Paul Hester on drums, the demos capture a host of songs that would go on to be played in arenas around the world in their newborn state: ‘It’s Only Natural’, ‘Catherine Wheels’, ‘Weather With You’, featuring a whole extra verse and the previously unreleased ‘Four Stepping in 3/4 Time’. For this release, long-time fan and collaborator on Neil’s 7 Worlds Collide project, Ed O’Brien (Radiohead) contributed liner notes, hymning the album’s “heavy” beauty and its “elemental energy.” Featuring brand new artwork designed by Needle Mythology’s James Gosling, the expanded Finn features newly-unearthed images of Tim and Neil taken by Darryl Ward during the sessions for the album. For this release, Tim and Neil have also shared the “listening notes” submitted by the brothers’ parents – something they would do for every song their sons wrote. For Finn, Tim and Neil enlisted the services of Tchad Blake, whose “feel”-based approach brought out the best in the brothers, who played every instrument on the record. Writing about the record for Mojo at the time, David Hepworth characterised Finn as a “warm and loose record” that hardcore fans would undoubtedly “adore”. Originally released on Parlophone Records, Finn spawned an unlikely top 30 hit, the mesmerising semi-improvised psych-rock fan favourite ‘Suffer Never’. The expanded double album edition of Finn has been cut at Abbey Road by Miles Showell and pressed on 180g vinyl at The Vinyl Factory.

Decomposed recalls classic American hardcore like Bad Brains, Poison Idea and Jerry’s Kids or Japanese ragers like Paintbox, The Comes, Eiefits and Skizophrenia. But there’s also a healthy slug of classic UK and US punk and even a bit of Krautrock, psychedelia and Black Sabbath in there too. Nottingham has always been a melting pot for heavy music. For a small city, it has boasted more than its fair share of genre defining bands and artists, not to mention record labels. Bands cross-pollinate, form projects and offshoots and play one-off gigs that would result in lengthy careers and world tours if they had happened across the Atlantic. It has always been like that there. No big deal (but yet, a really big deal if you know). One such band/project/offshoot were Endless Grinning Skulls. Formed by guitarist Andy Morgan (also from Bloody Head, Army Of Flying Robots, Nadir and countless more), drummer Steve Charlesworth (Heresy, Wolves Of Greece, Meatfly, Geriatric Unit) and bassist Gords (Hard To Swallow, John Holmes, Geriatric Unit) in the early twenty-teens, they re-set the bar for the 3-piece hardcore band before (perhaps inevitably) burning out in 2018. Morgan and Charlesworth weren’t done though. They’d forged a bond in EGS and wanted to carry on playing together so - in a familiar Nottingham storyline - they recruited former Pitchshifter guitarist Stu Toolin on bass and Anmarie Spaziano (who you might know from running a famous burger joint) on vocals and formed Blind Eye. They knew Toolin was about to relocate to Portland, Oregon so they wrote and recorded an EP (released on Morgan’s own Viral Age Records). Quick-sharp. No messing about. And that – by rights – should have been that: over and out. New band please. However, the demo captured a rare intensity and vitality that more considered projects often fail to achieve. This was a band let loose, free from previous shackles and loving the noise they made. It seemed a shame to stop there. Recruiting Matt Grundy (a former bandmate of Morgan’s in both Nadir and Dead In The Woods) to the bass vacancy they went back to Stuck On A Name Studios in 2021 with Ian “Boulty” Boult at the helm again and delivered the album Decomposed.
Decomposed genuinely rocks out without losing one iota of the effervescent anger that made the demo such an essential listen. From the insistent, minimal opener Ready To Go Now via the unhinged thrash of Straw Man and the menace of the stomping Pero No Quieres, to the measured chugging and epic crescendo of closer Broken Star, this record is a fucking blast. Needle off, flip it back over, play it again. Your neighbours are loving it so much they’re banging on the walls to tell you. “I suppose the intention was to write high energy, catchy hardcore, with a nod to what has come before, but also to do our own thing,” explains Andy. “Lyrically, the album was written during the pandemic, and although it’s not ‘a pandemic album’, I think it deals with a lot of the feelings of loss, separation and isolation

sferic cruise the best coast with Jake Muir's solo debut, arriving in pursuit of the immersive ambient-architextural themes which also influenced Space Afrika's warmly received 'Somewhere Decent To Live' LP and Echium's lush 'Synthetic Space' side.
Jake Muir is a sound designer and artist from Los Angeles, California, where he's previously recorded and released albums under the Monadh moniker for Further Recordsand Dragon's Eye Recordings, the latter of which recently lead to his inclusion on the Touch compilation 'Live At Human Resources', where he took part in a beautiful group tribute to Jóhann Jóhannsson along with a number of solo contributions.
On 'Lady's Mantle' Muir unfurls a poignant sound image crafted from samples of a well loved American pop group and later smudged with field recordings made everywhere from Iceland to California. In nine succinct scenes, the results loosely limn a wide sense of space and place with its fading harmonic auroras and glinting, half-heard surf rock melodies rendered in an abstract impressionist manner that suggests a fine tracing of in-between-spaces, perhaps describing metropolitan sprawl giving way to vast mountain ranges and oceanic scales.
In effect the album recalls the intoxicated airs of Pinkcourtesyphone (a.k.a L.A. resident Richard Chartier) as much as Andrew Pekler's sensorial soundscapes and even the
plangent production techniques of Phil Spector. But for all its implied sense of space, ultimately there's a paradoxically close intimacy to proceedings which feels like you're the passenger in Muir's ride, and he patently knows the scenic route.

"From the time they were formed, Set It Off have never been your standard emo band. Or pop group. Or pop-punk band. They are all of those things and more. Just listen to the lead single “Skeleton” from their new album Elsewhere – moody, melodious pop-rock with fast rapping tearing up the break. The song is about embracing who you are unapologetically and without filters. “Skeleton” epitomizes Set It Off now – a group both fully committed to its roots and diving into its future by embracing inevitable change.
While the band’s full-length debut album ‘Cinematic’s in 2012 embraced their moodier rock side, later efforts took on an upbeat pop twist that culminated in a darker synergy of those styles on their last album Midnight. ‘Elsewhere’ is a transitional, moody, and forward thinking release, one in which they have faced their demons and come out happier and more full of life than ever before."

Cabaret Voltaire co-founder Stephen Mallinder's second solo outing for Dais further distills his signature fusion of minimal synth, oblique wordplay, and "wonky disco" into a riveting rhythm suite ripe for our Age of Escalation: Tick Tick Tick. Channeling the temporal malaise of lockdown through a lusher palette of modular electronics and stereo strings, the songs embrace ambiguity and plasticity, loose systems of percolating circuitry and airless funk. Recorded across a handful of sessions at Meme Tune Studios in Cornwall with frequent collaborator Benge (aka Ben Edwards), Mallinder cites no guiding aesthetic premise for the collection beyond "cowbell on every track, and entirely no reverb." From the first coiled cybernetic groove of opener "Contact," the album's spatial dynamics are disorienting and asymmetrical, alternately cold and sensual, opiated and claustrophobic. But, throughout, "rhythm is the default, the bedrock, the building block-even the melodies are rhythmic." Across 40-plus years of electronic musicianship, Mallinder's sense of timing and tempo has honed into a rare tier of mastery, limber and fluid but knotted with strange frictions. Shades of Detroit technoid industrial ("ringdropp," "Shock To The Body") crossfade into now avy punk-funk ("Guernica Gallery," "Galaxy," "The Trial"), bad trip IDM ("Wasteland"), and jittery vapor house ("Hush"), at the threshold of modes both familiar and foreign. Lyrically the record is equally evasive, rich with allusions and associative linguistics, surveying liquid notions of societal noise, ecological ruin, art world pretension, and the trials of daily life. But the lack of fixed meaning remains Mallinder's main muse: "Music should draw you in; lyrics should make you think. Most interpretation is misinterpretation." This is music of countdowns and comedowns, fleeting pleasures and opaque futures, observing the great decline while dancing on its ashes. Flux is deathless and forever; the rest, illusion: "I will be a constant figure / Flickering a moving picture / Turning in your head forever / Split apart but held together."

Cabaret Voltaire co-founder Stephen Mallinder's second solo outing for Dais further distills his signature fusion of minimal synth, oblique wordplay, and "wonky disco" into a riveting rhythm suite ripe for our Age of Escalation: Tick Tick Tick. Channeling the temporal malaise of lockdown through a lusher palette of modular electronics and stereo strings, the songs embrace ambiguity and plasticity, loose systems of percolating circuitry and airless funk. Recorded across a handful of sessions at Meme Tune Studios in Cornwall with frequent collaborator Benge (aka Ben Edwards), Mallinder cites no guiding aesthetic premise for the collection beyond "cowbell on every track, and entirely no reverb." From the first coiled cybernetic groove of opener "Contact," the album's spatial dynamics are disorienting and asymmetrical, alternately cold and sensual, opiated and claustrophobic. But, throughout, "rhythm is the default, the bedrock, the building block-even the melodies are rhythmic." Across 40-plus years of electronic musicianship, Mallinder's sense of timing and tempo has honed into a rare tier of mastery, limber and fluid but knotted with strange frictions. Shades of Detroit technoid industrial ("ringdropp," "Shock To The Body") crossfade into now avy punk-funk ("Guernica Gallery," "Galaxy," "The Trial"), bad trip IDM ("Wasteland"), and jittery vapor house ("Hush"), at the threshold of modes both familiar and foreign. Lyrically the record is equally evasive, rich with allusions and associative linguistics, surveying liquid notions of societal noise, ecological ruin, art world pretension, and the trials of daily life. But the lack of fixed meaning remains Mallinder's main muse: "Music should draw you in; lyrics should make you think. Most interpretation is misinterpretation." This is music of countdowns and comedowns, fleeting pleasures and opaque futures, observing the great decline while dancing on its ashes. Flux is deathless and forever; the rest, illusion: "I will be a constant figure / Flickering a moving picture / Turning in your head forever / Split apart but held together."

When the whole world collapses around you, sometimes the only thing you can do is stomp it all loose. Erin Anne's second album, the gleaming, electrified Do Your Worst, charts that uninhibited romp through disaster. Written amid the rubble of personal grief and professional disappointment, later exacerbated by the devastation of a global pandemic, the record deepens Erin's venture into the blur between human and machine, adding a new roster of digital instruments to the mix. Drawing on dark, glossy '80s synthpop as well as the unabashed bombast of bands like The Killers, the L.A.-based songwriter deploys a cyborg persona to articulate a feeling of displacement from the world as a queer artist struggling to survive the machinations of late capitalism. With bright, interweaving synthesizers and ripples of Auto-Tuned vocals, Do Your Worst poses a dare to the world: Whatever you have in store, I'll take it standing.

Erin began writing her second album not long after adding a MIDI keyboard and vocal processing hardware to her home studio setup. While exploring her new gear, she found that she could work in the same vein as the artists and producers she loved the most. Do Your Worst takes inspiration from the music of Patrick Cowley, the disco and hi-NRG producer best known for working alongside Sylvester. Erin was taken by Cowley's use of vocoder on the 1982 album Mind Warp, where his distorted vocals create a queer, mutant subjectivity. That album rang out against the cataclysm of the AIDS epidemic; Erin found resonance in Cowley's music during the present-day pandemic. "I have found the most catharsis and the most safety in listening to the music of people in really, really horrific circumstances making something lasting and profoundly beautiful," she says.

Throughout Do Your Worst, which was mixed by Sarah Tudzin of Illuminati Hotties, songs like "Typhoid Mary" and "Florida" reckon with loss, despair, and abjection. "This Hungry Body" sears through pandemic-era touch starvation, while "Mirror Mirror" attends to the noxious but necessary funhouse of social media. On the playful, guitar-driven “Eve Polastri’s Last Two Brain Cells Have a Debate,” Erin uses the spy thriller TV show Killing Eve to explore queer codependency and masochism. Among these fraught subjects, Erin Anne finds opportunities for release. She stages internal conflict on a scale so massive that its details start to become clear; if they don't resolve, they at least become palpable.

"I’m very much a maximalist when it comes to production. I like vast landscapes. I like a stratosphere and a core -- I want the bass to be beneath the floor," Erin says. "This record is, in a lot of ways, a collection of some of the first moments that I was technologically able to achieve accurate renderings of how I hear my own emotional world."

“Rohkea rokan syö", or to loosely translate this Finnish saying: “Fortune Favours The Brave”. Truly, none have been braver than Blind Channel. Focusing intently on their mission to take their brand of infectiously ferocious nu-metal outside of Finland’s linguistic restrictions this bravery is engrained within. “It took me eight years to become an overnight success”, this line, buried away in Blind Channel’s fourth album Lifestyles Of The Sick & Dangerous is where their uncompromising journey finds its continuation. Furiously fighting their way into the worldwide mainstream, the six-piece have always been embracing their influences, from nu-metal iconoclasts to pop and hip-hop behemoths, it’s all a part of Blind Channel’s DNA. That’s the key to their draw, they’re only interested in sticking true to themselves while studiously searching for the keys to unlock the doors of success. Blind Channel knew that they had something to process. Not only the "modern-day misery” plaguing the world, as Joel puts it, but also proving that they could deliver more than the crowd-pleasing anthem of ‘Dark Side’. Lifestyles Of The Sick & Dangerous is a lashing, brutal, bravado and swagger filled, sincere depiction of their lives, backed by their trademark unforgiving “violent pop music”. As well as a winking homage to the Good Charlotte track Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous, it’s most importantly a righteous statement of intent. That this is only the beginning.

Clear vinyl LP edition of 500 copies. Vacant Gardens is Glenn Donaldson (of The Reds, Pinks and Purples and a hundred others) and Jem Fanvu, collaborating on music and with the latter responsible for vocals and lyrics. The project began with the idea of combining heavy fuzz and slow-mo drum machine beats with Fanvu's gentle almost trad-folk style vocals. Almost all of Donaldson's otherworldly sounds are achieved through layers of guitar fuzz and copious delay, while Fanvu offers an ideal counterpoint, taking the listener on a celestial melancholy trip with her opaque poetry and melodies. So inspired were the duo by this blend of styles, they immediately recorded at least two albums of material, Under the Bloom and Obscene, released in quick succession in 2020 and 2021 in swiftly-disappearing micro editions on the secretive Tall Texan label. With those records close-to-impossible to find at an affordable price, Tough Love are now reissuing both LPs. From Reds Pinks and Purples' Glenn Donaldson, Vacant Gardens is an interstellar recording project that combines celestial, shimmering guitar on the verge of breaking like a massive, emotive wave and an ethereal vocal style from Jem Fanvu (visual artist, Minor Ghost Band also, plus collaborating with Tune-Yards, Cavity Fangs and many more) recalling Hope Sandoval or Liz Fraser that sails in its wake. Simply put, this is some of biggest, heart-tugging guitar music you'll hear in recent times. Sold out at once debut Under The Bloom, is followed now a continuation and development of the group's sound on Obscene: a frayed tapestry of Slowdiving, Flying Saucer Attack guitar noise wall married with an angelic vocal from Fanvu that glitters in counterpoint to the stringed distortion like Hope Sandoval or, in the way it shines bright in the fog, like Jonsi's surfing the surging waves of emotion in early Sigur Ros. Originally released in February on digital formats, Obscene gets a vinyl press and is sounding massive. Vacant Gardens' music suggests oceanic feelings, a hazy intergalactic consicousness that burbles beneath the surface of everything while also touching the visceral points in the human heart that makes groups like Galaxie 500, Yo La Tengo so timeless.

Third pressing on transparent pink vinyl. At the 2018 edition of Roadburn Festival - a congregation of all things obscure, heavy and experimental in Tilburg, the Netherlands - two generations of Japanese Krautrock genius took to the stage for a live collaboration that was just as hypnotic as it was inevitable. The artists in question were Tokyo's Minami Deutsch and the legendary ex-Can frontman Damo Suzuki. With Minami Deutsch's heady metronomic jams providing the backdrop on which Suzuki was left free to deliver his distinct improvised vocals, the Live At Roadburn LP is challenging, raw and, at times, totally alien. Divided into three parts, from start to finish the LP is consumed by an unrelenting motorik rhythm section that never lets loose for a second. At the flick of a switch, intricate guitars veer from hypnotic and meditative to skewed psychedelic freak-outs drenched in fuzz. Where Minami Deutsch's playing is sharp and meticulous, Suzuki's stream-of-consciousness ramblings steer the music into whatever direction he sees fit. The result is equal parts disorientating, sporadic and totally all-consuming - the only thing keeping you grounded being that distorted and seemingly-endless 4/4 drive. Repetition. Minimalism. Improvisation. Transcendence. That was the ideology of seminal Krautrock pioneers Can, whose 1970-1973 work with Damo Suzuki at the helm unleashed something in music that would change it forever. Some 45 years since Can's final record with Suzuki - the inimitable Future Days - and the spirit of that era still lives on. Not least because ever since then Suzuki has embarked on an endless one-man tour, traveling around the world and taking to the stage backed by countless different bands. Crossing paths at Roadburn, Suzuki's ensuing performance with Tokyo via Berlin-based group Minami Deutsch is now available to relive on wax.

Cardiff alternative rock duo James and the Cold Gun are pleased to announce the details of their debut EP False Start, set for release on April 29th 2022 through Gallows' label Venn Records and Seattle-based label Loosegroove Records, owned by Stone Gossard (Pearl Jam) & Regan Hagar (Malfunkshun, Brad, Satchel). False Start is available to digitally pre-order now, with a vinyl release scheduled for the summer: https://orcd.co/falsestartep Speaking of the new partnership between the band and Loosegroove Records, the influential indie label that was founded back in 1994, which has issued records from acts such as Critters Buggin, Malfunkshun, Weapon of Choice and Devilhead, and was the launching point for Queens of the Stone Age’s debut album in 1998, Stone Gossard said: “I heard James and The Cold Gun’s ‘Long Way Home’ on KEXP last year and thought this band fricken rocks! Who are these upstarts?! "This new track, ‘It's Mutual’ takes it to another level. Totally unhinged and letting it all hang out. Loosegroove Records is thrilled to be working with James and the Cold Gun on this new EP with a future full-length coming soon.” On 'It's Mutual', James Joseph said: "It's a song that embodies the feeling that you get when you hit a stalemate in a relationship, that feeling when you're both sat together but neither person is able to speak. We've all had those awkward silent car journeys where there has been an argument or something isn't right but we can't even chat about it. Next time you have an awkward car journey, grab the aux and chuck some Cold Gun on." James Biss adds, "We wrote these songs for False Start in our flat in 2020 during the pandemic and our first time playing them live as a band was to record them. It was pretty mad recording live around our drummer, hearing the songs played loud with real drums for the first time after months of being stuck inside writing them on the computer. Recording with Adrian Bushby was a dream though, he was bopping around the control room and egging us on to play louder and harder, he's technically the first person we ever played in front of." Taken from the EP, lead single 'It's Mutual' is out now: https://orcd.co/itsmutual The band have rapidly been building support from some of rock’s most respected taste-makers, including Kerrang! Magazine, Rock Sound, Punktastic, Dead Press, Running Punks, BBC Introducing Wales, Deezer’s Hot New Rock playlist, Triple J’s Short Fast Loud, Apple Music’s New In Rock, Beez at Mosh Talks on Twitch, Alex Baker at Kerrang! Radio, John Kennedy at Radio X, and Daniel P Carter on the BBC Radio One Rock Show.