Buscar:lucid

A long-in-the-works project of ours, here comes A Tribe Called Kotori's first foray into full-length territories, as the immensely talented Rampue takes us on a melancholy-riddled ride across his phantasmatic mindscapes. A true sound explorer, deftly steering his ship down the junction of electronica, abstract and balearic-infused prog house, the Berlin-based vibist has us transfixed and elevated throughout the twelve cuts that form the backbone to this lushly textured promenade in sound - at times understatedly euphoric, at others rivetingly exotic.

Of the creative process that lead to 'Bubblebath Trance', Rampue explains "It all started and ended in the same moment: my cherished feline companion, my laptop awash with an unintended bath, and alas, a dearth of backups. The resultant calamity, an echo of chaotic tranquility." Under the generous layer of irony lies some unaltered truth about Rampue's debut long-player for A Tribe Called Kotori: this sense of serenity that goes with stepping into this warm and bubbling primitive chaos of sorts infuses the listening experience far and wide. Distantly emulating the "euphonious strains" of iconic PS1 video games soundtracks from his youth days, the album has us surfing a constant paradox of emotions, wistful but not abandoning itself to sorrow, dynamic yet suspended in some sort of mind-expanding stasis. As if you were looking at the world beneath you in exploded view, conscious of all thing, slowly moving up the many layers of our atmosphere towards uncharted skies.

A paragon of Rampue's most poignant take on classic electronica tropes, 'Harmonie' blazes with a poetic fire that engulfs about everything in its wake. Just figure yourself riding a chocobo across the sand-covered expanse of North Corel (toasting to the FFVII nerds here) as this blasts out in the distance. From this trancey bubblebath emerge lots of musical shades and nuances, from the nicely dubbed-out, brass-heavy coastal jazz of 'Schattenschranz' to the choppy, trip-hop-adjacent future electronics of 'Inside', via the exuberantly joyous mess of faux-organic number 'Tripomatic' and cinematic charisma of 'Ich hasse Sonne' high-flying orchestrations.

Connecting the dots between that trance-indebted ebullience and further downtempo-friendly attraction, 'Verfahren' perhaps encompasses best what 'Bubblebath Trance' is about: gracefully walking the tightrope in-limbo nostalgia-soaked inner movements and a powerful outward thrust, burning to let the feelings ooze out from the shell that holds them.Clad in purely 90s-compatible breaksy motion, 'Salz' is another attempt to reconcile emotional and physical dissonance, like kneading all states - solid, liquid and vaporous - into an impossible mega-vibe of its own; malleable, strong and enveloping in equal measure. Borrowing from two-step and UK garage, 'Take Away' is a definite high in Rampue's master unfolding of musical twists and turns, summoning a Boarder Community-esque atmosphere and clashing it alongside floor-ready footwork motifs to fascinating effect.

An ode to his studio companion, 'Buchla Trip' finds Rampue's exploring his machinic friend's quirky yet soulful array of electronic potentialities - making it sound like a conversation you'd have with R2-D2 in the heart of a Sandcrawler, whereas 'Kajal' beams us up to a fragmented headspace, halfway altered PC-Pop and arps-loaded electronica on amphetamines. Effusive and transporting, the title-track 'Bubblebath Trance' could well figure as the album's no.1 medley in essence: a bountiful lucid dream of dancing forms, colours and sentiments to wrap your head around, confidently drifting from a liminal state of consciousness down the rapids of one's troubled inner workings.

Rounding off the package, the languid ambient finale of 'Die Leiden des hungrigen Fruehstuecks' rubber-stamps the feeling that 'Bubblebath Trance' belongs to that rare category of albums. The ones that mint their own alphabet aside from typical norms and expectations, teaching you the ropes of their new language as it unreels between your ears - real and unreal, elusive to any other meaning than the one your guts and brains will be inclined to give it to, in real time. A crystal-pure object if you will, that shall not reveal its secrets, even after a thousand listens and just as many wowing moments.

'We're All Improvisers Now' is the debut solo album by New York/
Montreal-based performer Tommy Crane, a tranquil, introspective journey through boundary-traversing ambient jazz, buoyed by the creative elan of an artist in full experimentation mode.

Using sensory percussion and a battery of synthesisers, Crane creates a sequence of lucid sonic environments, where the real and synthetic meet, overlap and reappear disguised and opaque.The title's double meaning is immediately apparent; the album is an uncommon take on improvising from a performer incorporating ambient sensibilities and the title also accurately describes the situation many artists found themselves in amidst the pandemic. For Crane, the
pandemic provided a rare gift of time that allowed him to explore his love for electronic and analogue production.

"I don't think I will ever make a record like this again - this was one big
experiment," he says of a project with DIY trappings. After eventually returning from Italy where he was teaching drums and improv classes as Siena Jazz Institute, Crane settled in Montreal with his Canadian partner. At the beginning of the lockdown, he created a spaceship- like rig in his spare room comprised of assorted synths and 'sensory' percussion (which assigns new sounds to drums).

The album features welcome contributions from colleagues phoned in from afar, including saxophonists Logan Richardson and Charlotte Greve, guitarist Simon Angell and bassist Jordan Brooks.

There's something intangible about Celeste, the Soundcarriers’ second album, originally released in 2010. It has a light, lucid quality, almost like driving exhausted through a strange city at night. Freeflowing yet tethered, dreamy yet attacking, the band continue the fight to reconcile competing impulses. Various threads just about keep the shimmering tapestry from tearing. Haunting folk melodies underpinned by rhythmic static and the physicality of the totally analogue recording and mixing, baroque keyboard counterpoints and sweeping arrangements. The opener “Last Broadcast” seems to encapsulate this but it's almost as if the album gets the angst out of its system with this track and is free to explore the quieter, less crowded back streets. After the smoke of “Last Broadcast” has cleared, the twisting road takes in the soft introspection of “Hideaway” and “Morning Haze”, both tracks morphing into heavy psyche grooves or the eastern tinged psyche funk of “Signals” and “Rise And Fall”. Or takes another turn with the tightly arranged opening segment of “Long Highway”. Somehow it still manages to fit in ‘60s pop gems like “There Only Once”. An album to really lose yourself in, yet more concise than the sprawling Harmonium and more relaxed and freeflowing than the nervy rush of Entropicalia, Celeste could be arguably their most indispensable album and not to damn it with faint praise, their most listenable.

On their sophomore effort Tusky, surrealist duet Robbie & Mona ascend beyond the lo-fi scrawlings of their debut album to something altogether more grandiose. Between the lights down drama of sprawling opener ‘Sensation’, to the ‘roll credits’ coda of closer ‘Always Gonna Be A Dead Man’, Tusky exists as a glitzy, lucid journey playing out before the listener.
While debut album EW captured William Carkeet and Ellie Gray as they were finding their feet with one another, creating Tusky was a wholly symbiotic process from day one. “We got better at knowing what each other wanted,” William offers. “This was the album that we were trying to make from the beginning.”

Simultaneously evoking multiple eras of music, the album drifts through worlds of synth pop, jazz, trap, drill, ballroom waltz and leftfield electronica, with the scatterbrain sound palette melded by a peppering of instrumental motifs and William’s addiction to sampling sounds across multiple tracks. “I wanted there to be this weird dimensional thing going on,” William explains, “where songs from the album are playing in multiple places.”

The record sees an expansive cast of musicians assembled, with a much heavier focus on live instrumentation than previous outings. Alongside the expected fare of crackly synths, samplers and drum machines, Tusky gets its glossy sheen from a rich tapestry of jazz drums, double bass, grand piano and saxophone.

Most of the tracks are laden with improvised saxophone from Campbell Baum (Sorry, Broadside Hacks) and Ben Vince (Housewives, Joy Orbison), much of which was scrambled by William in post-production, lifting scraps from one song and layering them atop an entirely different track. Elsewhere, session musicians were cherry picked, including Bingo Fury, his drummer Henry Terrett, and a string ensemble led by Caelia Lunniss and Jo Silverston (Spindle Ensemble).

Most surprising is a rap feature from Monika (of South-East London collective Nukuluk), who brings album centrepiece ‘Mildred’ to new heights with a fiery verse on pain. Aside from being the most unlikely addendum to a sombre piano ballad, it demonstrates Robbie & Mona’s natural state of playfulness, forever following emotions and sensuality over any notion of traditional compositional boundaries.
Many of Tusky's tracks owe their inception to cinema, be it the soundtrack to Betty Blue, the glowing films of Wim Wenders, or the surprising parallels between La Belle Et La Bete and Bad Boys. Equally, much of Robbie & Mona's new-found sense of tension and spectacle comes from William’s recent work soundtracking independent filmmakers, while Ellie gave greater priority to threading a narrative through her stream of consciousness writing style.

In all its majesty, Tusky celebrates creativity with creation. “If you begin to see fiction as real, you can reincarnate and become different things. You can grow,” Ellie implores. “Nothing stays the same. You can shed old characters in yourself. There’s great joy in that.”

For it's 46th outing, Klasse Wrecks recruits the Brooklyn based producer Gee Dee to it's ranks. Gee Dee aka Greg Droggitis turns in a wonderful and fully fledged collection of tracks that burst to the brim with atmosphere and sunny vibrations. True to the label's ethos, the music is as always, hard to pin down under one specific genre but instead slyly calls on various classic House, Electro and Acid tropes. The overall sound is one that is both universal and transcendent, feeling familiar but still surprising. 'Dream In Colour' is indeed an apt title for the EP as it spans the musical spectrum and is a lucid and vivid trip into the imagination of this new and exciting producer.

Naarm alchemists Sleep D's revelatory new synthetic 'Electronic Arts' is ready for circulation.

Having released 4 EPs of mind-altering club tackle since 2019's 'Rebel Force', the duo overcome second album syndrome, boiling down their chaos with a more developed sense of songwriting. Never banging one drum, 'Electronic Arts' mirrors the anything goes mania of their DJ sets, tactfully shifting through different sounds and styles. Tempos intensify and decelerate, at times pushing the threshold to 150 bpm from docile canine dreamscapes to full tilt Space Invaders in AR mind games.

Largely built on road tested material from their live performances, the album is a tangible Butter Sessions gathering, busting out the gate with Martian rave initiation Planet Waves, Outdoor System's polyrhythmic beatdown and the Orb-like hero dose affirmations of Sunrise In The Crater (I Exist). While 'Electronic Arts' is otherwise a self-dependent effort, Punch Drunk is brewed ever more potent by the hypnagogic vocals and lucid trumpet cycles of former futsal team member YL Hooi. Their unified energy incidentally manifests a profound matrix of ambient techno, motorik, Don Cherry and Everything But the Girl.

Also touching on apocalyptic doof and minimal, the album is not exclusively peak time with Maryos Syawish and Corey Kikos' specialty curveballs also playing their part. From Village To Empire finds the duo rooting down in Syawish's heritage with a tapestry of purposefully deployed Iraqi and Syrian ethnographic samples and field recordings, dubbed within range of Muslimgauze and On-U Sound. As minimal techno finale Textile trails off into footsteps wandering back to base camp with a satisfied exhale, one wonders where Sleep D's existential pathfinding could possibly take us next?

With When You're This, This In Love, Southworth put all his signature
sounds together, mostly folk songs, sometimes dressed up as loungeballads, rock nocturnes, classical-chansons, time-traveling, lucid, jazzy feeling pop songs too.

His songs are pleas. Laments. There's an olive branch behind his back.
In 2014 Rolling Stone named his album #1 album of the year.

This album in feel is similar to that record.

This time two years ago, Pupil Slicer were preparing for the release of their debut album, Mirrors, with zero expectations of where it could take them. The breakneck speed with which Pupil Slicer were not only accepted but celebrated by the metal scene - both at home and abroad - took the band by surprise. As 2023 starts to unfold, it is a more mature, more considered version of Pupil Slicer that stands before us brandishing their sophomore album: Blossom. Blossom is a hard science fiction/cosmic horror concept album with central themes of abject despair, reincarnation and a fascination of hell. An intense month in the studio with producer Lewis Johns has led to a cohesive and confident sounding album that embraces ethereal singing, electronic breakdowns, and bold experimentation - without ever losing sight of their core tenets. Drawing from influences as diverse as Nine Inch Nails, Deafheaven, Radiohead, and Deftones, Pupil Slicer have moulded an album that is effervescent with passion but doesn’t shy away from a good hook and a catchy chorus. Through darkness and despair, there is always - at the very least - a glimmer of light in all that they do. Blossom is an album that benefits from being digested as a whole, but within this body of work there are gems that stand out, demonstrating that the future is extremely bright for Pupil Slicer. They’re only just getting started.

Cozy up for winter with our newest Chillhop Essentials seasonal compilation 2022. The calming and laid-back lofi instrumentals welcome winter leaves and comfy hoodies. It's time for some coffee or tea and an evening to relax. All the song project features an impressive list of producers.

Since the release of RFR 014 Joannes has remained a quality source of solid techno. With this four track EP he proves his sonic versatility.
„Kiss“ sounds like a lucid dream, when you have spent the nights sleeping upon Robert Hood’s „Internal Empire“ for some time. A respectful homage to Detroit’s grandmaster, combining everything what made and makes techno so unique for decades.

The second track remains true to the minimal approach of this EP. Pictures of a humid rainforest, only sparsely lit by daylight, through whose overgrown paths you’re cutting your way with a machete. Certainly not a place for a „Date”, rather a spot for minimal techno in 90s garments.


A touch of tribal, Chicago infused percussions and gentle melodies are all that it takes to elect „Love“ as one of the highlights of this EP. A wonderful start for those often-underrated record flipsides.
Despite its title, „Hate“ might be the most accessible track of this EP. If you are into melodic Detroit techno with dash of…., you may fall in love with this one and hardly get away from it.

Since the beginning, space and the sound of it has been one of the cornerstones of Tapani Rinne and Teho Majamäki's music. The two previous albums contain meditative music recorded in acoustically interesting and atmospheric locations - temples and caves in India, as well as deep underground in the railway tunnels of Helsinki's metropolitan area.

With the new album, the musicians wanted to keep outside factors to a minimum and record compositions in controlled studio conditions. In this way, different spaces can be created electronically afterwards into the works. Aleksi Myllykoski and Mika Kalmi are responsible for mixing and post-production. The tracks are based on Teho's metal percussion instruments and Tapani's woodwinds.

In the finished pieces, the duo went towards free musical dialogue, in which the boundaries between improvisation and composed music become blurred and insignificant. Instead of listening to the sound of the space itself, musicians tuned in to listen to the vibration of the metal and wooden instruments. ”We focused on sensing the mutual resonance of the instruments and the sensitivity of the improvisation. A presence on the border of familiar and unknown.” Says Tapani and Teho. The recordings took place in Kitee, Eastern Finland, near the Russian border. The location and way of working gave birth to the name of the record - On The Border.

There's something intangible about Celeste, the Soundcarriers’ second album, originally released in 2010. It has a light, lucid quality, almost like driving exhausted through a strange city at night. Freeflowing yet tethered, dreamy yet attacking, the band continue the fight to reconcile competing impulses. Various threads just about keep the shimmering tapestry from tearing. Haunting folk melodies underpinned by rhythmic static and the physicality of the totally analogue recording and mixing, baroque keyboard counterpoints and sweeping arrangements. The opener “Last Broadcast” seems to encapsulate this but it's almost as if the album gets the angst out of its system with this track and is free to explore the quieter, less crowded back streets. After the smoke of “Last Broadcast” has cleared, the twisting road takes in the soft introspection of “Hideaway” and “Morning Haze”, both tracks morphing into heavy psyche grooves or the eastern tinged psyche funk of “Signals” and “Rise And Fall”. Or takes another turn with the tightly arranged opening segment of “Long Highway”. Somehow it still manages to fit in ‘60s pop gems like “There Only Once”. An album to really lose yourself in, yet more concise than the sprawling Harmonium and more relaxed and freeflowing than the nervy rush of Entropicalia, Celeste could be arguably their most indispensable album and not to damn it with faint praise, their most listenable.

Free The Robots intentionally marries various electronica genres into a joyous, machine-like syrup that swims between the currents of deep introspection and the depths of the dance floor. 'Kaduwa' is his most recent manifestation, born out of his travels around the world. Especially inspired by his time between Los Angeles, Barcelona, and the island Siargao in the Philippines, Free The Robots translates his experiences into electronic, jazz-centric and sample based beats with sublime tinges of psych, rock, house, and hip-hop. For the most part, these compositions are blunted, funky, and psychedelic. There are tracks for club nights, tunes for early morning comedowns, and songs that are suitable for both. Once more adding new ripples to his sound, Free The Robots continues to explore new frontiers while keeping the torch burning for the L.A. beat freaks

Steve Gunn and David Moore's Let the Moon be a Planet is a volume of improvisatory exchanges between classical guitar and piano, and a meeting place where two artists become acquainted through instrumental dialogue without a single expectation distracting them from the joy and open field possibility of collaboration. A project enveloped by an aura of reciprocity, Let the Moon Be a Planet unfolded from an invitation to connect between two New York-based musicians who admired each other's work but had never intersected: guitarist and songwriter Steve Gunn, whose solo, duo, and ensemble recordings represent milestones of contemporary guitar-guided material, and pianist and composer David Moore, acclaimed for his minimalist ensemble music as the leader of Bing & Ruth. The exchange began remotely as Gunn and Moore responded to one another's solo improvisations, embarking on a synergistic progression of deep listening and connection through musical conversation. "We were both fans of each other's music and this was a chance to try a different process which was much more open," says Moore. "It felt like something I needed personally as an artist, to not be so controlling over the final output, and to truly collaborate with somebody else." Similarly for Gunn, who was exploring new pastures and passages in classical guitar when the dialogue began, the project was an invitation for pure conversation and exchange, creating space for him to revisit foundational forms with his playing: "I was trying to break out of what I was doing, to have something that just pulled away all the elements of usual structured things." Let the Moon Be a Planet intertwines the trajectories of two musicians acclaimed for pushing the boundaries of their instruments, unified by a shift away from what they recall as more "detail-oriented" approaches to composition. Fueled by the magnetism of their call and response exercise, Gunn and Moore set out on a nomadic songwriting venture without an intended destination. "We didn't know it was going to be an album," Gunn explains. "There was never pressure on us to complete or make something. It was interesting to start realizing that this could be an album and to take a step back_ to arrive at a project after the fact." Calibrating their focus to connect with a spectrum of inner and external emotional realities, the duo found their way into a world where the most subtle of gestures can eternally flow. Let the Moon be a Planet is an ode to experimentation over outcome; it holds a candle light to the corners of introspection and captures the patterns that flicker within. Cast across the compositions of the album is a gritty, filmic grain _ a quality that emerged partially from recording "without the greatest microphones" or their usual studio environments. For both artists, this lo-fi sensitivity felt integral to the record and its production, and they worked closely with engineer Nick Principe to preserve its otherworldly haze in the final mixes. Across the record's eight compositions, the rippling impulses of Gunn and Moore's inner worlds converge in the spirit of two strangers wandering the same path, engaged in a daydream state of natural back and forth. Melodic tableaux arise, drift and disperse across serene open spaces, painted in earthy hues of nylon string and balmy, undulating keys _ side by side, the duo converse in tessellating motifs and gestures of lucid introspection, cultivated by a shared desire for intuitive play. "This project was such a simple idea," says Gunn. "It got down to the very core of where I am or where I was, and where I'm trying to be as a musician. Making this record became a very beneficial ritual for me, almost a meditative process." As Moore recalls, "Our only motivation for making these tracks was that it felt good to make them and there was nothing else behind it_ I don't know that I've ever made a record that came about so naturally." While Let the Moon Be a Planet was envisioned through a deeply collaborative process, it uncovered a path for Gunn and Moore to respectively return home as musicians. Imbued with the forces of interconnection and balance, the record is an exploration of creative synergy while following the currents of inner experience _ of looking outwards to arrive at one's natural self. Steve Gunn and David Moore's Let the Moon Be a Planet will be released March 31, 2023 in LP, CD, and digital editions. The album represents the first volume of Reflections, a new series of contemporary collaborations orchestrated by RVNG Intl. A portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit St. John's Bread and Life, whose mission is to respect the dignity and rights of all persons by ensuring access to healthy, nutritious food and comprehensive human services resulting in self-sufficiency and stability.

It's hard not to see the hype around BRUIT= as the next big thing in post-rock. While their 2018 EP Monolith provided a promising indication of their son- ic ambition, it was their debut LP The Machine is Burning and Now Everyone Knows It Could Happen Again which really set off the trig- ger. Receiving rave reviews around the globe and selling out the first vinyl pressing of 3.000 copies within less than a year, BRUIT= have no need to prove themselves beyond what they have already achieved so far. Consisting of three musical meditations, Apologie du Temps Perdu Eng. apology for time wasted sees BRUIT= cut down on their massive sound in favour of a more subtle contem- plation. In contrast with their recent streaming single «Parasite (The Boycott Manifesto)» with its direct message for Spotify CEO Daniel Ek and his listeners, the band have seemingly forgone their activist agenda paring back the grand thematic gestures and poignant spoken-word excerpts. Instead, BRUIT= let the music do the talking, reaching an activism which is more visceral, but all the more personal. "This ambient EP is conceived as a comma between our first album and the next one," explains bass player & violinist Cle'ment Libes about the purpose of this record. "It is an invitation to lose time, a parenthesis in the frantic race of our society." Existing somewhere between the grand genius of soundtrack composers like Hans Zim- mer and Ramin Djawadi, and the experimental prowess of fringe pop artists like Radio- head and Darkside, Apologie du Temps Perdu reveals the hidden power of film scores. We all know that moment in which we cease to be conscious of the musical accompani- ment and we become truly absorbed in the story. The music becomes part of scenery, and in this moment we lose track of time. Talking of his own work Ramin Djawadi (Game of Thrones, Westworld) notes: "If you were to turn the picture off, there is a story there and a connection to the characters and the plots." In the same way, through the sweeping strings of «La Sagesse de Nos Ai"eux», the ethereal tape loops of «Re^veur Lucide» and the undu- lating synths of «Les Temps Perdus», worlds are created to get lost in, and we experience the full power of music with our eyes and ears open. RIYL Hans Zimmer, Nils Frahm, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Balmorhea, Max Richter, Olafur Arnalds, A Silver Mount Zion, Boards Of Canada

Dial 303! The new and hopefully also durable sampler series on Running Back is here.

Dedicated to the twang of Roland’s silver baseline box with a varied string of artists: DVS1, Marko East & Jordi Chu (whose collaboration sparked the idea of a whole series), Like A Tim via Prins Thomas, Katerina and I:Cube.

The Parisian put it in a nutshell, too: „Although rinsed to death to the point of becoming a parody of itself, acid will last forever.“ Therefore, his Folie Noire is combining the original recipes with hypnotic European influences, while Marko and Jordi present a rough and direct 303-909 live jam, Prins Thomas puts his wickedest smile on Like A Tim’s Wonderline from 2005 and Katerina sets a lucid dream to sanguine music.

Finally, there is a rare and much desired musical outing by the unique DVS1. A direct ode to Chicago’s acid and beatdown styles and its Midwest companions, it is a heads-down-lights-down late night track made for driving up and down Lower Wacker Drive. Trippy trip artwork by the inimitable Gasius.

Trivia: If the piano is the bread of house music, the acid line is its butter!

BROODING PSYCHEDELIC REVELATIONS FROM THE STAVANGERIAN OUTSIDERCORE

The uncanny is never out of bounds in the debut release by shadowy Norwegian duo Firmaet Forvoksen. Gaute Granli and Thore Warland, two archetypes of the Stavanger experimental scene long active through solo work (Gaute Granli’s recent Ultra Eczema notoriety, for one) and other collaborative projects (Thore Warland’s ongoing drum devolutions with Golden Oriole, for another), have joined forces under multiple configurations over the years in order to finally coalesce under the FF banner. Together they project an ever-unfolding vision that sonically erodes into a radiant abyss, like some serious atonement from probable jazz school fugitives.

Undone Shal is an unfurling tapestry of erratic guitar pickings, muffled percussive conjurings, barging synths, and moans that are part lamentation, part incantation. These arrangements evoke a definite psychedelia, plunging the listener into unsettling yet luminous expanses of liminality that recall only the most brooding of outsiders. Like craggly rocks piled on top of each other forming an incomprehensible, gravity-defying tower, Firmaet Forvoksen’s disjointed musical deployments forge something lucid and concrete while grazing the edges of complete inscrutability. This strange relic of a record follows the lineage of KRAAK rosterees past and present - the KRAMPs, Ignatzes, Red Bruts and Calhau!s of our hearths - through its assemblage of crude elements that incite the universe to vomit its hidden harmonies and forcibly test the boundaries between fluency and unintelligibility. No Norwegian wood wisecracking to be made here, for these two dwell in a malleable zone where chaos aligns to draw you in, hinting at all that is obfuscated like a marching band to nowhere.

"Deining" is the first full album by bassist and composer Dries Laheye. We know Dries as a composer and bass player for bands such as STUFF., Hoera. and Lucid Lucia. He is widely referred to as one of the better Belgian bass players of his generation and now comes forward with a solo-repertoire on this debut-EP.

His intention was to create music that feels like it keeps moving. The result is a dreamy universe that flows through concrete elements and improvised passages. The compositions of this repertoire were written for solo bass guitar with effects as tools. The tracks are recorded live in the studio and some overdubs with voice, bansuri flute and synthesizer were added to create a more layered sound.

Recommended to people who love Taylor Deupree, Bibio, Bill Frisell, Skuli Sverrisson, etc.

‘Living Rooms’ is a full-blooded debut of rich, playful, experimental pop from the artist Fe Salomon – full of unabashedly big songs and sumptuously big sounds. Fe’s soulful and arresting lead vocals weave amongst soaring strings and big band brass sections; clattering percussion and disjunctive rhythms; dirty electro synth and butchered guitar. A collaboration with producer and contemporary classical composer Johnny Parry, ‘Living Rooms’ is a true pop album with a distinct, exuberant and deeply generous sound.

Born in Northampton, Fe moved to London at 18 for a place at Theatre College; but soon left to concentrate on music and songwriting, falling quickly into the Camden music scene, and earning her a prolific career as a singer. Building on her diverse musical background and honing her unusual sonic style, this album has been percolating at the back of Fe’s mind for a long time. The perfect storm of personal and external factors thus created the moment to make it. ‘Living Rooms’ tells stories of multiple lives lived and lost

in the city, of friendships that meant everything and the characters you’ll never meet again, of transience and loneliness, and of getting by and moving on.

At the forefront of the album is an organic and fiercely honest lead vocal performance. However, Fe permits her voice to be twisted and distorted into the fabric of the instrumentation. The un-doctored lead vocals are frequently haunted by angels and demons, created through Fe’s uninhibited willingness to this manipulation, and capturing the more visceral emotions within the expression of the human voice.

‘Living Rooms’ navigates a wide spectrum of sounds and emotions. Take album opener “Polka Dot”, a track that mixes emotive vocals with an avant-garde alt/pop production to conjure a cut as stylish as it is shrouded in shadowy mystique. A track “about mourning innocence, and the darkness that’s picked up along the way, with an ‘up yours’ sarcastic tone, and not wanting to grow old”, it sets the scene for a twisting collection that up-ends expectations at every opportunity.

Elsewhere, the chunky hooks of “Super Human”, the sci-fi/country/big band of “Wired of Caffeine”, or the intimately sung vocals and Vaughan-Williams-esque string sections of “Taxicabs”, all contribute to an album that evolves like a rich and constantly surprising tapestry.

Although the conception of the album was a frenzy of wild experimentation. The album is faithful too, and celebratory of many joyous pop traditions; but searches for ways to reinterpret the familiar. And no less so than on the off-kilter centre-piece “Quintessential England”. Through wry lyricism and vivid imagination, the track paints a lucid, if lonely, depiction of a life lived out in the sticks; one that ultimately arrives at the conclusion that perhaps “the grass isn’t always greener”.

Gifted with the kind of superpowers that have blessed Alison Goldfrapp with her unwavering glam-pop allure and Stevie Nicks with that invincible soul, Fe Salomon’s empowering first release will prove she’s cut from the same cloth and ready to be your newest musical hero.

Ltd. Yellow Vinyl

Limited Repress! The album entitled "Lighght" (pronounced "Light") continues and expands the sound of his critically acclaimed debut, "151a" - which earned Kishi Bashi the *title* of "Best New Artist" by NPR. Since the profoundly successful release of "151a" two years ago, Kishi Bashi has toured relentlessly, captivating audiences across the globe with his loop-based live show, and fostering a groundswell of devotees. "151a" was crafted over a four-year period while Kishi Bashi was touring and recording with Regina Spektor, Sondre Lerche, and of Montreal (where he was a full-time member and co-producer). In late 2012, after the success of "151a", Kishi Bashi decided to focus solely on his own music and began composing the new material which has become "Lighght". "Lighght" takes its title from the one-word poem by minimalist poet Aram Saroyan. As Kishi Bashi explains, "The poem's blatant assault on literary convention and classical form was attractive to me." It is apparent that such an approach informed the new album, which has both broadened and redefined his classical foundations. "Though I have studied classical composition, I prefer to take an unconventional path when it comes to creating and thinking about music," says Kishi Bashi. Though violin remains his primary instrument and songwriting muse, Kishi Bashi has expanded his palette to include more diverse and nuanced instrumentation. Bright and soaring avant-pop songs are prevalent, as are Eastern-tinged arrangements, gentle ballads, Philip Glass inspired improvisations, and more than a few moments that flirt with 70s prog (in the tradition of ELO or Yes). If this sounds jarringly kaleidoscopic, that's because it is. But it works. Listen and see.

Pique-nique Recordings is proud to present People’s Dream, the latest solo release from NYC-based vibraphonist and electronic producer Will Shore.

Inspired by Francis Bebey and Don Cherry’s electronic music from the 70s and 80s, People’s Dream draws heavily from modal jazz, minimalism, and dance music. It blends tightly composed percussive phrases with freely moving melodic improvisations that feel as much at home in a DIY loft space as they do on a custom-built sound system at Nowadays.

Shore says: “The vibraphone is the thing that I know best, but I’ve always found the instrument quite limited. Its pure bell-like tone can seem too pretty to evoke a wide range of feelings. I normally find ways to obscure that pure sound: I distort it, pitch it down, or layer rougher textures over it. But for People’s Dream and Lucid, instead of obscuring the sound quality, I decided to embrace it.

I used the vibraphone for not only melodic parts but also as a driving rhythmic element. I let the entrances and exits of melodies appear and disappear in a dream-like way, and added electronics and percussion as texture, to create a more cinematic atmosphere.”

On the B-side, UK producer and label-head Tom Blip (Blip Discs) flips Lucid into a driving, bass-oriented club track, fit for vibrant dancefloors this summer. On the back of successful collaborations with East African artists Swordman Kitala and Mubashira Mataali Group, Blip unleashes a trademark peak-time drum track designed to elude any dream-like state.

People’s Dream is the seventh release on NYC/Sydney label Pique-nique Recordings, which worked with Shore in 2019 on their signature event, Take Two. Shore led a nine-piece band through a reinterpretation of Albert Ayler’s Spiritual Unity for the occasion, utilizing his mentor Butch Morris’ conduction technique to rapturous effect.

Ernest Hood’s Neighborhoods was released some two decades after the Portland, Oregon born and raised musician’s first forays into field recordings. These very recordings, and those captured over intervening years, define the universal sound and aural images of childhood, a theme memorialized by Hood’s privatelypressed opus of 1975.

Sprawling through a haze of zither, synthesizer melodies, and foraged pedestrian sound, Neighborhoods is both a score and documentary composed and directed by Hood to offer, in his words, joy in reminiscence. Hood’s nostalgic impulse ran parallel to the developments of other artists, writers, and filmmakers of the 1970s who were looking back to the 1950s to convey a collective memory of childhood. Unlike some of the widely embraced work of this nature, the music of Neighborhoods eschews irony or detachment for lucidity, striving above all for a dream-like return to the details of sensory memory.

Born into a musical lineage, Hood’s early, promising career as a guitarist in a globetrotting jazz outfit was cut short when he contracted polio in his late twenties. Moving from guitar to less physically-demanding stringed instruments in the late 1940s, Hood first began implementing field recordings in his jazz ensemble collaborations as early as 1956. In 1961, Hood and trumpeter Jim Smith collaborated on a local Portland television program, with their large, tight ensemble providing breakneck contemporary jazz for an action painting by famed West Coast modernist painter Louis Bunce. Hood incorporated his own field-recorded sounds of birds in the performance – an element that would resurface in Neighborhoods with great abundance among other found sounds.

The French psycho-indie-rock band La Femme announces the release of Teatro Lucido, their new studio album sung entirely in Spanish, released on November 4, 2022. During their time touring in Latin America and Spain, La Femme wrote a Spanish song called "Le Jardin" for their previous album Paradigmes. This track led them down the path toward creating Teatro Lucido, their first full album sung entirely in Spanish. Similar to their previous albums, La Femme wrote, composed, and produced Teatro Lucido themselves, inviting numerous female singers to participate in the process. The album found birth through their adventures in Seville, Grenade, Madrid, Mexico City, Cuautepec, Padul_ where they had so many moments of laughs and joys, tears and disappointment. Teatro Lucido draws from many of La Femme's inspirations including the famous Semana Santa in Spain; pasodoble, reggaeton, Brasilian, and Andalusian rythms; classical guitars, and Movida of the 80's. Teatro Lucido is the name of a mythic theatre where La Femme has played many times in Mexico. It is the first album from a thematic series they have planned called "Collection Odyssée."

The Person is back on the dancefloor and she brought the delicious Australian version of a good old Italian recipe - ITALOZ DISCO. Mouthwatering rhythms spiced with everyday hustle, cosmic boogie and the extra dose of synthesizer! Changing the Meatballs for Oddballs to worship the Magic $ properly. Sull' alto lato (aka on the B-Side) we're changing the Oddballs for the Mothballs as the one and only Hysteric warms up the magic ragout in his unique steam-powered kitchen. Now go to work!

You still need to be convinced? Take these great lines by Patrick:
"Magic $" beams into the discotheque direct from deep space; a shimmering body of squelching bass, nebulous pads and snapping percussion which hosts Minna's bewitching vocals. The arch delivery and vintage sequences flirt with kitsch, but that playful genius particular to The Person pushes this into wonderfully wonkier territories. Basslines climb, keys collapse and the whole thing chugs and bubbles through a flawless arrangement. We thought they didn't make them like this anymore, but we were wrong. Stepping in on remix duty, renowned (Moth)baller Hysteric turns out a treatment that's worth a million bucks, boosting the bottom end with an acidic sequence, supercharging the percussion and punching in some strange sampler fun to guarantee utter club chaos.
Every superhero needs a theme song, and "The Person" sees Minna step away from the dancefloor to deliver a synthetic ballad for lucid dreamers everywhere. Jamming on top of a malfunctioning Jomox, Minna channels chimes, piano and a gentle chug into the classiest chord progression this side of Mike Francis. Closing cut "Go To Work" gives us neon lights and nighthawks as The Person indulges in a little Antipodean electro, proving once and for all that Australians Do It Better.

Self-recorded indie experimentalist from the Pacific Northwest. For fans of Grouper, The Microphones, Unwound’s Leaves Turn Inside You. Features Madeline Johnston (Midwife), Alex Kent (Sprain), Lula Asplund, a chamber ensemble and more. In 2019, Drowse’s Kyle Bates set out to produce a self-recorded new album. Marked by moving across state lines, long-distance relationships, and deaths in the family, the following years proved to be metamorphic. Now, three years later, he’s emerged with Wane Into It, continuing a distinctly Pacific Northwestern tradition of self-recording indie experimentalists (Grouper, The Microphones, Unwound’s Leaves Turn Inside You). One of the most impactful moments came during the looming passing of a family member. With death expected, the choice was made to conduct a bizarre “living-wake” gathering—with the soon-to-be1deceased in attendance. Shortly after, Bates found himself disturbed, preoccupied with the abstraction of memory. The experience led him to reassess the tool one uses to curate our selective memories: the internet. The internet, which creeped into even more aspects of life during the pandemic, serves as our self-made digital link to the past. Its uncaring presence layered over humbling thoughts of death and his own childhood memories of the Oregon Coast as he worked on Wane Into It; life’s hyperreal texture sank into the recordings as he felt his body age and wane. Big sounds were captured in bedrooms, hallways, practice spaces, forests, and on highways throughout West Coast vibraphones chime over black metal guitars, a mellotron drones under degraded samples, violins splinter against granular field recordings. In the process of documenting these aural moments Bates completed an MFA at Mills College, coloring the album with shades of avant electronic and minimalist composition (Pauline Oliveros, Terry Riley, Maryanne Amacher, Sarah Davachi etc…). To realize this scope Drowse collaborated with Madeline Johnston (Midwife), Alex Kent (Sprain), Lula Asplund, a chamber ensemble and more. Bates’s songwriting and production have never been more lucid; sounds flicker as he sings with fragile intensity. The record, Drowse’s third for The Flenser, impressionistically distills loss, distance, mystery, prescription drugs, the preservation of memory via recording, and ambient anxiety through its titular act: to Wane Into It, to disappear awaiting the next moon phase, water returning to sea before reemerging as a wave. Track Listing: 1. Untrue In Headphones 2. Mystery Pt. 2 3. (Ashes Over The Pacific Northwest) 4. Wane Into It 5. Telepresence 6. Gabapentin 7. Blue Light Glow 8. Three Faces (Cyanoacrylate) 9. Ten Year Hangover / Deconstructed Mystery

Self-recorded indie experimentalist from the Pacific Northwest. For fans of Grouper, The Microphones, Unwound’s Leaves Turn Inside You. Features Madeline Johnston (Midwife), Alex Kent (Sprain), Lula Asplund, a chamber ensemble and more. In 2019, Drowse’s Kyle Bates set out to produce a self-recorded new album. Marked by moving across state lines, long-distance relationships, and deaths in the family, the following years proved to be metamorphic. Now, three years later, he’s emerged with Wane Into It, continuing a distinctly Pacific Northwestern tradition of self-recording indie experimentalists (Grouper, The Microphones, Unwound’s Leaves Turn Inside You). One of the most impactful moments came during the looming passing of a family member. With death expected, the choice was made to conduct a bizarre “living-wake” gathering—with the soon-to-be1deceased in attendance. Shortly after, Bates found himself disturbed, preoccupied with the abstraction of memory. The experience led him to reassess the tool one uses to curate our selective memories: the internet. The internet, which creeped into even more aspects of life during the pandemic, serves as our self-made digital link to the past. Its uncaring presence layered over humbling thoughts of death and his own childhood memories of the Oregon Coast as he worked on Wane Into It; life’s hyperreal texture sank into the recordings as he felt his body age and wane. Big sounds were captured in bedrooms, hallways, practice spaces, forests, and on highways throughout West Coast vibraphones chime over black metal guitars, a mellotron drones under degraded samples, violins splinter against granular field recordings. In the process of documenting these aural moments Bates completed an MFA at Mills College, coloring the album with shades of avant electronic and minimalist composition (Pauline Oliveros, Terry Riley, Maryanne Amacher, Sarah Davachi etc…). To realize this scope Drowse collaborated with Madeline Johnston (Midwife), Alex Kent (Sprain), Lula Asplund, a chamber ensemble and more. Bates’s songwriting and production have never been more lucid; sounds flicker as he sings with fragile intensity. The record, Drowse’s third for The Flenser, impressionistically distills loss, distance, mystery, prescription drugs, the preservation of memory via recording, and ambient anxiety through its titular act: to Wane Into It, to disappear awaiting the next moon phase, water returning to sea before reemerging as a wave. Track Listing: 1. Untrue In Headphones 2. Mystery Pt. 2 3. (Ashes Over The Pacific Northwest) 4. Wane Into It 5. Telepresence 6. Gabapentin 7. Blue Light Glow 8. Three Faces (Cyanoacrylate) 9. Ten Year Hangover / Deconstructed Mystery

With Maternity Beat, Hedvig Mollestad has surpassed herself, most significantly as a composer and arranger, and delivered her magnum opus so far. And with Trondheim Jazz Orchestra she found the perfect ensemble to perform it. They have a long tradition for collaborations like this, we can mention Chick Corea, Jason Moran and Marius Neset among many others. And as always, Hedvig truly shines as a guitarist. Maternity Beat is Hedvig’s third “solo” album. It was commissioned by Molde International Jazz Festival and premiered in July 2020, later the same year streamed at London Jazz Festival. The recording took place in Athletic Sound in Halden in October 2021. Since she received the festival’s talent price in 2009 and signed to Rune Grammofon the following year, we have had the great pleasure to release seven albums by her trio as well as two solo albums, all receiving wide international acclaim in both jazz and rock camps. To complete the circle, Hedvig has been chosen as next year’s Artist in Residence at the festival, a most prestigious institution in Norwegian jazz, held by John Zorn this year and initiated by Chick Corea in 2000 and Pat Metheny in 2001. Tracklist, all formats 1. On The Horizon, Part 1 2. On The Horizon, Part 2 3. Do Re Mi Ma Ma 4. Donna Ovis Peppa 5. Little Lucid Demons/Alfons 6. All Flights Cancelled 7. Her Own Shape 8. Maternity Beat 9. Maternity Suite

With Maternity Beat, Hedvig Mollestad has surpassed herself, most significantly as a composer and arranger, and delivered her magnum opus so far. And with Trondheim Jazz Orchestra she found the perfect ensemble to perform it. They have a long tradition for collaborations like this, we can mention Chick Corea, Jason Moran and Marius Neset among many others. And as always, Hedvig truly shines as a guitarist. Maternity Beat is Hedvig’s third “solo” album. It was commissioned by Molde International Jazz Festival and premiered in July 2020, later the same year streamed at London Jazz Festival. The recording took place in Athletic Sound in Halden in October 2021. Since she received the festival’s talent price in 2009 and signed to Rune Grammofon the following year, we have had the great pleasure to release seven albums by her trio as well as two solo albums, all receiving wide international acclaim in both jazz and rock camps. To complete the circle, Hedvig has been chosen as next year’s Artist in Residence at the festival, a most prestigious institution in Norwegian jazz, held by John Zorn this year and initiated by Chick Corea in 2000 and Pat Metheny in 2001. Tracklist, all formats 1. On The Horizon, Part 1 2. On The Horizon, Part 2 3. Do Re Mi Ma Ma 4. Donna Ovis Peppa 5. Little Lucid Demons/Alfons 6. All Flights Cancelled 7. Her Own Shape 8. Maternity Beat 9. Maternity Suite

Ingredient is the elegant collaboration of Toronto poets, composers, producers and dear friends Ian Daniel Kehoe and Luka Kuplowsky. Their self-titled release is an enigmatic electronic avant-pop record attuned to the micro and macro perspectives of the natural world. Ingredient is an album whose lyrics are more poem than lyric, and whose songs exist in a merger of house music, philosophically-minded lyricism and contemporary R&B. One might recall electronic and art-pop luminaries such as Yukihiro Takahashi, The Blue Nile, and Arthur Russell, or connect it to contemporaries like Nite Jewel, Westerman and Blood Orange. A distinct world of dance, of questions, of secrecy and ultimate softness.

Eight years of friendship forges strange telepathy.

In the summer of 2020, Ian Daniel Kehoe was entrenched in a new feeling of heaviness; psychosomatic symptoms had started to proliferate; stress made new pores across the body, bending sensitivity into pain. His days were met with confusion, detachment, sleeplessness and pain without causation. Disfigured, he felt that what had been central and centering was blown out to the periphery of things. In a moment of self-preservation he reached out to his dear friend Luka Kuplowsky to make an album together. For Kehoe, it was an instinctual grasp for the anchoring truthfulness of deep friendship and the potential for a dedicated creative collaboration. Kuplowsky’s presence was light, supportful and curious, eager to explore musically the sounds they were mutually drawn to: house music, ambient pop, dub. The duality between Kuplowsky and Kehoe – between the Aflight and the Unmoored – is a portrait of a friendship whose exchanges came easy and produced an outpouring of song. Creation and therapy crisscross. In email correspondence that catalogs their process of collaboration, affection abounds: “feels bare without the Luka Licks”, or “Love you so much”, or “Kinda just overwhelmed with deadliness coming in at all angles.” When their voices first come in together on “Wolf,” that harmony arrives in a dramatic avant-pop sound that is bold and wondrous.

Kuplowsky and Kehoe both arrive at Ingredient as established artists whose works are committed to language’s propensity to provoke and mystify. Kuplowsky’s 2020 album Stardust is an idiosyncratic and otherworldly blend of pop and jazz romanticism grounded by Cohen-esque vocals and a stirring philosophical curiosity. Kehoe’s entrance into the new decade has hatched four records of pop experimentation, most recently 2022’s Yes Very So, a euphoric and bold album of poetic synth-pop and meditative ambient instrumentals. Kuplowsky and Kehoe’s union as Ingredient is a beautiful and unusual chemistry that integrates their distinct approaches while bringing forth a newness: a sound that alternates between cinematic technicolor and dubbed out fogginess; a lyricism that exchanges their lucid and clear poetics for a playful and obtuse verse. The album intuitively taps into the opposing emotional states of Kuplowsky and Kehoe during the conception of the record, contrasting the buoyancy of trumpeting keyboards (“Resurface”), angelic synthesized voices (“Come”), and rolling bass (“Photo”) with the record’s underlying darkness of whirring buzzsaw textures (“Transmission”), whooping sirens (“Wolf”) and murky ambience (“Illumination”). Lyrically, this duality arises in the record’s flux between openness (“Variation”, “Raindrop”) and existential dread (“Wolf”). “Illumination” most clearly crystalizes this opposition, reconciling the verses’ neurotic yearning for enlightenment with the chorus’ liberating doctrine of negation: “no more devotion… no more delusion”. Amidst the gradations of light and dark, Kuplowsky and Kehoe trade indelible, lush melodies as though their voices are made of a substance that melts easily one into the other. The harmony of poetry, sound, and texture cuts through your brain fog like a wet diamond.

Ingredient’s self-titled record was assembled by Kuplowsky and Kehoe over the course of six months in a home studio they frequented daily. Amidst synthesizers and drum machines they composed, re-composed, and workshopped a wide array of music, ultimately focusing on a set of eight songs that lived in a shared musical and philosophical world. Recording days often ended in basketball games at a local court or a rooftop commune over a pot of tulsi tea and a crossword puzzle. Kuplowsky brought in the Blue Cliff Record – the classic anthology of Chan Buddhism – whose inscrutable and sublime insights remained constant throughout the recording process as an activator of reorientation and reflection. While Kehoe was frequently rendered physically immobile by bouts of anxiety, a patience and mutual caring governed the pace of their creation; rest, stretching and meditation became equally important as the act of arrangement. Invited into their intimate circle of composition was Thom Gill, whose heavenly voice uplifts “Variation” and “Raindrop,” and Karen Ng, whose alto sax simmers and dances around the funky strut of “Raindrop.”

The lyrics on Ingredient reflect the persistence of change, the infinite variability of nature where randomness and divergence are no accidents. In Daoism, duality, in the form of Yin and Yang, is not contradictory as it is in Western idealist philosophy, but rather composes the eternal and lived paradox of our changeless-changing universe: changeless because all is change, and changing because the dynamism of the Dao makes each moment transformational. Kuplowsky and Kehoe refract this way of seeing the world, as in Variation: “Variation in the natural world / there it is.” Ingredient is an experience of the manifold ways of saying there it is of the transformational world, and there it is, unfolding. Elsewhere, change and ephemerality is addressed through the record’s preoccupation with non-human perspectives, reorienting the listener to the wolf, the mouse, the emerald frog, the centipede, the bird, the fly in the lamp. The album cover visualizes this fascination with the striking image of a reddish-orange frog atop a defamiliarized landscape of dark green leaves. Mirroring the exploratory process of the record’s collaboration, the frog also signals the amphibian’s natural inclination to leap into boundless potential. Kuplowsky and Kehoe’s lyrics manifest philosopher and ecologist Timothy Morton’s concept of “the mesh,” drawing attention to the “vast, entangled web” of interconnectedness that connects all life forms and interweaving the songwriters’ shared wonder into the Animal’s unknowability. As Luka narrates in the breakdown of the dance-floor ready “Photo,” “the closer we observe things, the further they retreat into abstraction.” In Ingredient’s ecosystem, perception is a reversible fractal where the world’s minutest details mirror the shape of the cosmos.

According to the Dao, the path to healing starts by reorienting perception away from the self and toward the self’s subsumption in Totality. For Kehoe, collaborating with Kuplowsky became the reorientation necessary for the self-preservation he was seeking, opening up a shared creative practice to navigate and soften the complexity of his psychological shattering. The album begins with Kuplowsky intoning “colossal faith” which bounces around the stereo field in a cloud of echo, and it is the enormity of “faith” that centers both Kuplowsky and Kehoe’s collaboration and their inquisitiveness in the vast mysteries of our very being. Truth in Ingredient is not an essential nugget, but a bending of the light – it is the equivocal entanglement of how we are in nature as nature, but with a plea or prayer under our breath that marks our felt distance from what we are a part of: “carry me towards the mountains of my birth / returning to the nest / the silence of the earth.”

40TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION.With this album a fuse was lit, leading to
an explosion that spawned a new religion: Bad Religion
How Could Hell Be Any Worse?, their second record and first LP is nothing short
of genius. Shattered-glass guitar riffs, fast, furious drums, and a 16 year old Greg
Graffin's voice for the ages. The coalescence of lyrical intellect and savage music
make for a sound seldom (if ever) heard before. The impact of this record still
resonates to this day. Classic tracks like Fuck Armageddon...This Is Hell,
American Dream, and The Voice Of God Is Government are as crucial and socially
lucid as the day they were created in a southern California garage. When the
greatest punk records of all-time are discussed, How Could Hell Be Any Worse? is
sure to be mentioned.

Lucrecia Dalt is a Colombian recording artist, songwriter, and producer currently based in Berlin, Germany. Dalt channels sensory echoes of growing up in Colombia on her eighth studio album ¡Ay!, where the sound and syncopation of Tropical Music encounter adventurous impulse, lush instrumentation, and metaphysical sci-fi meditations in an exclamation of liminal delight. Dalt's introspective approach to composition, last surfaced on her entrancing 2020 album No era sólida, refracts across ¡Ay! in a subconscious spectrum of the music genres she absorbed as a child. Treasured sounds and syncopations of bolero, mambo, salsa, and merengue rooted in Dalt's early surroundings awaken on ¡Ay! and give glow to the album's contours. The intuitive melodic structures of this music, processed by memory and modular synths, led Dalt to a mirage of her creative origins and the album she has always wanted to make. ¡Ay! is a tincture of rich acoustic textures filtered through the warmth of Dalt's signature machinic distortion, diffused of easily-defined edges as previously explored on No era sólida and her 2018 album Anticlines. Here, vivid incantations of upright bass, wind ensembles and brass form shimmers of harmonic motif, distilled across radiant rhythms. Dalt worked closely with friend and collaborator Alex Lázaro to cultivate new shapes and colors for slowed down tumbaos and bolero percussion patterns. Together they deconstructed the traditional drum kit into serpentine expansions of congas, bongos, temple blocks and timbales, all of which they tuned to dance among Lucrecia's lucid vocal processions. For Fans of David Sylvian, Rosalía, Robert Wyatt, Rita Indiana, Matías Aguayo, Tom Waits, Meridian Brothers.

Lucrecia Dalt is a Colombian recording artist, songwriter, and producer currently based in Berlin, Germany. Dalt channels sensory echoes of growing up in Colombia on her eighth studio album ¡Ay!, where the sound and syncopation of Tropical Music encounter adventurous impulse, lush instrumentation, and metaphysical sci-fi meditations in an exclamation of liminal delight. Dalt's introspective approach to composition, last surfaced on her entrancing 2020 album No era sólida, refracts across ¡Ay! in a subconscious spectrum of the music genres she absorbed as a child. Treasured sounds and syncopations of bolero, mambo, salsa, and merengue rooted in Dalt's early surroundings awaken on ¡Ay! and give glow to the album's contours. The intuitive melodic structures of this music, processed by memory and modular synths, led Dalt to a mirage of her creative origins and the album she has always wanted to make. ¡Ay! is a tincture of rich acoustic textures filtered through the warmth of Dalt's signature machinic distortion, diffused of easily-defined edges as previously explored on No era sólida and her 2018 album Anticlines. Here, vivid incantations of upright bass, wind ensembles and brass form shimmers of harmonic motif, distilled across radiant rhythms. Dalt worked closely with friend and collaborator Alex Lázaro to cultivate new shapes and colors for slowed down tumbaos and bolero percussion patterns. Together they deconstructed the traditional drum kit into serpentine expansions of congas, bongos, temple blocks and timbales, all of which they tuned to dance among Lucrecia's lucid vocal processions. For Fans of David Sylvian, Rosalía, Robert Wyatt, Rita Indiana, Matías Aguayo, Tom Waits, Meridian Brothers.

Freedom is both an integral and multi-layered topic for improvised music, describing its mechanics, aesthetics, and values and often an underlying political dimension as well. In the case of free jazz specifically, the word carries additional weight given the music's deep connection to the black liberation movement of the 1960's and 70's.

The passionate and unclassifiable work of Calgary-based improviser Jairus Sharif embraces each of these definitions of freedom and others, albeit strictly on its own personal and idiosyncratic terms. Since early 2020, the 34 year-old autodidact has been generating a steady stream of homespun solo recordings that forge unprecedented connections between hip-hop abstraction, cosmic skronk, outsider jazz, and staunch post-punk DIY ethos.

Leading up to the pandemic, Sharif's immersion in spiritual and exploratory jazz had culminated in him deciding to purchase an alto saxophone. Unbeknownst to him this instrument would be a catalyst for him to discover his own ardently individualistic artistic voice.

Prior to that point, he had always been somewhat of a solitary musical traveler. In 2002, he acquired his first instrument—a pair of Technics 1200s — but struggled to find local collaborators that had equal investment in hip hop culture. Ultimately, Sharif picked up the guitar, turning to the resilient local punk community, that had also nurtured both of his mothers some time earlier.

As Black Lives Matter gained momentum in the wake of George Floyd's murder, Sharif was suddenly flooded with an acute awareness of his own identity. It compelled him to zealously plunge headlong into open-ended spontaneous solo creation. Water & Tools, his strange and stirring debut for Toronto's Telephone Explosion Records (home to full-lengths from the likes of Brodie West's Eucalyptus, Mas Aya, and Joseph Shabason), offers a glimpse into this ongoing hermetic journey.

As Sharif dedicated himself to uncovering his own deeper musical truths, he assembled a home studio in his basement, cobbling together a drum kit from bits his bandmate had left at his house pre-pandemic, chaining effects together and outfitting the entire space with microphones. Somewhere between the chaos of child's treehouse and the tidy import of a shrine, this space (pictured on the album's back cover) consecrated his own imagination. He laid it out to maximize access to any and every tool in his arsenal, providing him a freedom to explore that he had never permitted himself to consummate before.

Within this cozy private universe, his recent purchase—the saxophone—assumed new meaning. It furnished a tangible connection to the black radicalism that mobilized free jazz, but also something far more personal. From a technical standpoint, the instrument was completely unfamiliar to him, yet rather than this being a hindrance to Sharif, his inexperience opened fruitful path forward, unencumbered by preconceptions. Resolving to shirk formal training, convention, and build his own understanding of it from scratch, allowed him to access his most raw, fundamental creative impulses. The Saxophone's inseverable bond with breath compounded this effect, echoing revelatory discoveries he had been making about breathing through yoga, research, and psychotherapy. Of course, the parallels with BLM's harrowing rallying cry—“I can't breathe”—were not lost on him either.

Water & Tools is a dense, contradictory statement with a blustery surface that shelters a soulful heart. It's generous music, exuding profound vulnerability—grappling with the loss of one his mothers, Lisa—all the while brimming with electric wide-eyed wonder. Almost every one of the nine pieces seems to carry some semblance of a groove, while remaining completely untethered from pulse. For Sharif, this collection is an expression of newfound lucidity, however for the listener his sonic concoctions act as powerful psychotropics. At points, there's a timelessness that's conveyed through the music's processional, ritualistic tenor, and yet there's an endless amount of wild, futuristic detail waiting to unspool at any given moment. Similarly, while this recording emerges from Sharif's private pilgrimage and personal emancipation, he also leaves room for collaboration. Woven throughout Sharif's one-man-ensemble textures, one finds Maxmilian Turnbull (of Badge Epoque, U.S. Girls, and Cosmic Range infamy) providing sundry keyboards and treatments, as well as his mixing skills.

Whether conjuring effusive psychedelia or plumbing introspective depths, the music that Jairus Sharif produces is singular, visceral, and wondrously unpredictable. Water & Tools sketches a raw, firsthand account of his nascent explorations within his own unbridled imagination.

THERION have always been a band that have challenged themselves to explore new paths, while remaining true to their musical core values. For their 17th studio album, mastermind Christofer Johnsson and his collaborator Thomas Vikström have created something that has been previously unthinkable to the guitarist and the singer. "We have done the only thing that was left of all the different angles to explore", explains Christofer. "We have decided to give the people what they kept asking for. 'Leviathan' is the first album that we have deliberately packed with THERION hit songs."

True to the Swede's words, the album opens with the catchy and swift tune 'The Leaf Of The Oak Of Far' featuring female and male antiphonal singing as well as a choir that seems to have evolved straight out of THERION's breakthrough full-length "Theli" (1996). This is immediately followed by the obvious highlight 'Tuonela', in which Christofer cleverly underscores this hit-track's Finnish vibe by employing NIGHTWISH’s "metal voice" Marko Hietala. Next up in this parade of future fan-favourites is the title track 'Leviathan' that offers classic THERION material with operatic female vocals and a massive choir.

Christofer Johnsson's passion for classic voices, choirs, and orchestral elements as well as his penchant for epic melodies in combination with rock and metal shines clearly through the following sing-along ballad 'Die Wellen Der Zeit', which indicates another nod to German romantic composer Richard Wagner. "Ever since 'Theli', Wagner has been and will always be at the core of THERION", emphasises Christofer. "When we started to combine metal and opera, it was something new and original. Today, symphonic metal has long been a firmly established genre." When THERION came into being in 1988 by changing name from the already existing band BLITZKRIEG, which was founded a year earlier, Christofer had rather taken inspiration from SLAYER's "Reign In Blood" among other classic metal albums.

At the beginning, the Swedes were firmly rooted in death metal, a genre which they helped to define, as witnessed by their debut album "Of Darkness...." (1991). Yet even back then, there were hints of "something else" lurking beneath the rough surface. The use of female vocals is another core ingredient of THERION today, which developed gradually. CELTIC FROST had basically introduced the female element to extreme metal on "To Mega Therion" in 1985. THERION began with both a female and male vocalist emulating a church like choir already in their sophomore full-length 'Beyond Sanctorum' (1992). With Symphony "Masses: Ho Drakon Ho Megas" (1993) and "Lepaca Kliffoth" (1995), Christofer continued to developed his trademark sound by gradually drifting towards cleaner vocals and more keyboards.

With "Theli", the Swedes had firmly established a reputation of pushing the boundaries of metal in the 90s –among such acts as their compatriots TIAMAT, THE GATHERING, and MOONSPELL that were often referred to as "gothic metal" at the time. THERION continued to break new ground leaving inspiration for others to follow in their wake: On "A'arab Zaraq -Lucid Dreaming" (1997), Christofer further explored the use of Near Eastern music in metal which he had already begun in 1992, while "Secret Of The Runes" (2001) dared to have Swedish lyrics in some songs.

While critics were left confused and fans challenged, THERION were often ahead of their times and vindicated in hindsight. Even the band's 25th anniversary excursion "Les Fleurs Du Mal" has by now overcome the initial shock the album caused and is only beaten in terms of streaming by the classic "Vovin" (1998). When Christofer faced the question of where to go next after the dramatic "Beloved Antichrist" (2018) had finally fulfilled his musical mission, his answer is "Leviathan" named after a giant sea monster from Judeo-Christian myth that has roots in Babylonic lore: THERION have created a giant hit album –and for the first time in the history of the Swedes, their fans are not asked to explore something new, but simply to lean back and enjoy the best from their band!