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Kojaque follows his critically acclaimed cult concept record, ‘Deli Daydreams’, with an
expansive, urgent debut album. In this landmark debut, Kojaque mines both his
emotional interior as an artist, and the external forces of a love triangle barrelling
towards chaos. ‘Town’s Dead’ is a mind-bending, explosive and expansive trip,
documenting a tumultuous love triangle that unfolds across New Year’s Eve in a
place where gentrification poses as much a threat as the violence of street dealers.
Sonically, the record smashes any previous expectations, stretching an aural palate
that leaps from rage to solace, from clattering musical combustions to tender
ruminations. The tremendous scope and scale of ‘Town’s Dead’ demonstrates an
artist utterly untethered to assumptions about what a particular voice or genre should
be, and instead explores radical musical territory. Dark corners of parks, bedrooms,
clubs, streets and psyches are excavated and pouring over the rubble is an artist
who refuses to conform, unafraid of the vulnerabilities that are exposed when the
voice rings true, because there’s just no point in being anything else.
Kojaque is part of a new wave of Irish artists flooding the world with blistering and
sophisticated literature, film and music - ideas and work that emerged from a social
revolution stonewalled by late-stage capitalism. Welcome to that state of mind, where
the path less travelled is the only one worth taking.
On the announcement of his debut album Kojaque has said: “‘Town’s Dead’ comes
from the potential that I see in Dublin and in the people I’m surrounded by day in and
day out. There’s nothing but talent and ambition among young people, I’m constantly
reminded of that through the art and music that I see being made but I think so often
the city grinds you down, it takes your hope and your ambition. I know that it can
change because so many of my friends express the exact same wants, desires and
frustrations with living in Ireland. If so many of us are on the same page then I know
that things can change, there just needs to be some sort of catalyst to kick start that
change and for me that’s always been art and music. Time and time again, amazing
art continues to be made in spite of the struggles and setbacks that are presented
when living here. The title track and the album is a fight against what can sometimes
feel inevitable, it’s a rejection of what people tell you is your destiny as a young
person in the city, Town’s NOT dead it’s just Dormant.”
CD housed in digisleeve containing 12-page lyric and photo booklet.
Black double vinyl housed in 5mm wide spine single sleeve with 12-page lyric and
photo booklet.
“Hints of Odd Future and its offspring... Kojaque is not your average rapper” - i-D
“Dublin’s hip-hop community are making waves right now... an intimate introduction
to the world this bold artist inhabits” - Clash
“Social realist rhymes set to silky hip-hop” - NME
“Likeable and funny” - Trench
“The Dublin MC forcing us to face real life; both the gory and the glory” - Wonderland
“Ireland’s freshest hip-hop hope, Kojaque, serves ‘soft hip hop’ with a side order of
poetry and performance art” - Notion

Tape

Tekanan is the full-length debut of Melbourne-based Indonesian-Australian drummer and sound artist, Rama Parwata. A thorough exploration of rhythmic capabilities and percussive improvisation under ever-shifting timbral and stylistic environments, Tekanan is Parwata’s examination and documentation of his vast musical influences in electro-acoustic improvisation, Indonesian gamelan music, free jazz, electronic music, R&B, and noise music, whilst still maintaining an entirely unique non-idiomatic musical voice. Tekanan sees Parwata experimenting with not only the drum kit, but additionally implementing no-input mixing boards, musique-concréte sampling techniques, junk percussion, electric guitar, and computer music production to create a relentlessly metamorphosing soundscape that abruptly, yet seamlessly oscillates between ethereal ambiances to turbulent barrages of rhythm and noise through five unique movements.



Aptly named after the Indonesian word for pressure and stress, Tekanan was composed by Parwata with the intent of it being a listening experience which would pressure the listener to have no clear indication of the direction of the music and where it will ultimately settle, leading the listener on a sinuous, yet intriguing aural journey. This title additionally applies to the pressure of the challenging nature of the music, in a performative sense, which pushed Parwata to his physical and mental limits to perform and compose.



“As cliche or banal this might sound, I tried to make a record that was purposely made to be hard to put into a box. I didn’t want to make a “drumming” record or a noise record or anything of the type, but a record that just contained "good” music (or what I constitute as being good). Many aspects of my musical life were injected into this release: gamelan music (the first music I was exposed to), noise, hip-hop, free-improvisation, Xenakis, jazz, electronic music. Ultimately this record is a homage to those musical influences.” - Rama Parwata

-


An active figure in Australia’s experimental music and art scenes, Parwata has worked with the likes of Marco Fusinato, Robin Fox, and Robbie Avenaim, and choreographers Stephanie Lake, Juliet Burnett, and Melanie Lane. He is also a member of seminal long-running Melbourne Doom Metal band, Whitehorse.


As of 2019, Parwata has been a co-curator and committee member of Melbourne’s legendary concert series, Make It Up Club, which has been presenting weekly avant-garde improvised performances since 1998.

By 1991, the world’s most celebrated trumpeter could look back on five decades of musical evolution – his own, and that of the world around him. Miles Davis had found ways of marrying jazz with classical ideas, then later R&B, rock and funk, producing hybrid offspring that shaped the course of popular music and had come to define his legend. In 1985, he’d left Columbia after thirty years to sign to Warner Bros. Records, a label riding high with best-selling artists like Madonna, Van Halen and Prince, with whom he had a mutual admiration and friendship.

Miles Davis’s lifelong love for France is well-documented, and in July 1991, he became a Knight of their Legion of Honour. Davis received the award from French culture minister Jack Lang, who described him as: "The Picasso of jazz." A few days before, he played this electrifying set at the Vienne Jazz Festival with the Miles Davis Group. He passed away two months later in September 1991.

Miles Davis’ performance at Jazz a Vienne on July 1, 1991 became one of his final live performances before he passed away on September 28, 1991, and this previously unreleased set includes two songs written by Prince, “Penetration” and “Jailbait”. The package features liner notes from music historian, journalist, and producer Ashley Kahn, with art designed by Bruno Tilley.

Dr. Feelgood’s best-of - ‘Singles (The U.A. Years)’ - is to be remanufactured and reissued on vinyl for the first time since its original release in 1989.

Released on 11 June, ‘Singles - The U.A. Years’ is a celebration of 26 tracks of Dr. Feelgood at their absolute peak. Having formed in 1971 in Essex, founding members Lee Brilleaux (singer), John B. Sparks (Sparko) on bass guitar, John Martin (The Big Figure) on drums and guitarist Wilko Johnson, whose iconic and renowned choppy style of playing saw the band build huge notoriety in London’s live music scene resulting in a record deal with US Artists in 1974.

The time is now right for the Witch Doctor to put a spell on us with two sparkling soul songs that were originally released on WD Records in 1977 with 'How Can I Win Your Love' and 'All I Know, I Love You'. Witch Doctor originally pressed up 100 promotional copies to give away free at his concerts. As far as we're aware there's only two known copies these days in circulation, although we're aware that there could be more.

When we first heard 'How Can I Win Your Love' and 'All I Know, I Love You' the first thing that came into our mind was the similarity with the mid 70s Betty Wright sound. It all made sense when the Witch Doctor confirmed that he used two session musicians from Betty Wrights backing band of the time to record the songs . The Miami sound is clearly evident in both songs.

Outside Ludlow / Desert Disco is the first major solo release from Australian performer-composer Sam Dunscombe, now based in Berlin after residing for the past decade in San Diego and Tokyo. A virtuoso clarinettist who has performed in composed and improvised settings with artists such as Klaus Lang and Taku Sugimoto, their practice also embraces computer music, lo-fi electronics and field recordings, in addition to their long-term commitment to archiving, studying and performing the work of Romanian spectralist composer Horatiu Radulescu.
The two side-long pieces presented on this LP began from a chance encounter in a specific geographic location (documented in the photographs that grace the record’s sleeve). Exploring California’s Mojave desert with a friend, Dunscombe made the unlikely discovery of a tangle of quarter-inch tape snared on a cactus. The digitised version of this tape, variously edited and processed, as well as Dunscombe’s own transcription and embellished performance of some of its material on Hammond organ, makes up one of the main ingredients of the LP’s first side. The other is a field recording of the area outside the ghost town of Ludlow, where the tape was found, where haunted silence is punctuated by freight trains and clusters of explosions from gold mines and the local marine corps. Far from any kind of documentary approach, the resulting composition reaches back to the smeared atmospherics and overdriven tape crunch of Hands To, Small Cruel Party or Joe Colley, before the Hammond organ rises up to cast a spectral shimmer reminiscent of 1960s tape music classics like Arne Nordheim’s ‘Warszawa’.

On ‘Desert Disco’ (its title perhaps a clue to the content of the mysterious tape), Dunscombe zeroes in on a single fragment of the tape, accompanying it with analogue synthesis to craft an immersive work based on a single chord. Throughout the course of this work, the monolithic opening sonority gradually splits apart, revealing an infinity of rhythmically phasing lines that swarm like a cloud of insects and patter like falling rain, placing Dunscombe’s piece in a lineage of patient electronic exploration that includes landmarks like Costin Miereanu’s Derives and the contemporary work of Jim O’Rourke.

Limited edition vinyl with images by Sam Dunscombe and design by Lasse Marhaug. Mastered by Joe Talia at Good Mixture, Berlin.

INTERMISSION MUSIC is the soundtrack to An Intermission, an artists film by Edwin Mingard made in collaboration with a group of young people experiencing homelessness in Stoke-on-Trent, England. Like the film, the soundtrack was made collaboratively by the group, working with Edwin and composer Tom Haines.

ALL PROFITS from the soundtrack go to a dedicated fund to support the young people as they take their next steps in life. All partners have worked for free or at cost to make sure this is as much of the cover price as possible.

The film won Jury Special Mention at IDFA, the world's most prestigious documentary festival; was selected for New Contemporaries, and longlisted for the Aesthetica Art Prize. In 2021 it is screening at the London Short Film Festival; Future Now Symposium; and is being exhibited at South London Gallery from May 2021.The soundtrack is being showcased on all these platforms.

The Guardian are releasing the film in 2021. Their documentaries consistently receive tens of thousands of views, and the release of INTERMISSION MUSIC will be highlighted here also.

Following on from their ‘Insect-Talk’ 12”, O Yuki Conjugate return to Utter for the vinyl version of their most recent album ‘Sleepwalker’.

‘Sleepwalker’ documents O Yuki Conjugate’s 2017-2019 live shows but also doubles as the soundtrack to a film of the same name by founder member Andrew Hulme. The music and images were conceived together and the resulting album comprises 10 tracks taken from 24 live performances in nine countries across Europe. ‘Sleepwalker’ captures OYC’s current musical direction, a blend of plangent keyboards, abstract guitars and electronic rhythms, presented in OYC’s inimical style.

Originally released in 2019 on CD by German label Auf Abwegen, ‘Sleepwalker’ is finally available in vinyl form complete with three additional live studio recordings from OYC’s ‘Flesh and Bones’ NTS session of the same year.

The album features a contribution from musician and actor Keeley Forsyth on ‘Eyelids Burn’ (courtesy of Leaf Records). It was mixed and mastered by Nurse With Wound’s Colin Potter and then transferred and cut by Helmut Erler at Dubplates & Mastering.

The sleeve houses a 16 page 10”x10” size booklet displaying images and text from the ‘Sleepwalker’ film, a special 12”x12” tour insert plus codes to download the album and view the film.

Jess Cornelius first began writing the songs that would comprise Distance after moving from Melbourne, Australia to Los Angeles. At the time, she was excited to start fresh after several years as the primary songwriter in the band Teeth and Tonuge. But the distance she addresses over the album is hardly a geographical one. Instrad, Distance finds a deft songwriter analyzing the space between society’s expectations for her and her own dreams, the illusion of the love and reality of disappointment, and a past she is ready to let go of and a future she could have hardly imagined.

Distance documents a songwriter in the pursuit of living life on her own terms. As Cornelius puts it, “A lot of the rEcord was about me deciding to continue this nomadic lifestyle of being a musician. People would ask ne if I was going to have a family and lot of the songs are about me being ok with no pursuing that path. It was about coming to terms with the choice I had made.. And then two years later, I’m knocked up and married! I couldn’t have imagined that”

Cornelius gave a first taste of Distance with “No Difference,” released last year, which was featured by NPR’s All Songs Considered as well as Paste Magazine, Brooklyn Vegan, Hype Machine and Uproxx, who called it “a striking stateside introduction.”

On new single “Kitchen Floor,” Cornelius maps the space between the bedroom and the front door over a Roy Orbison tinged rave-up, lamenting the coming pain: “This is gonna be a hard one.” Its accompanying video, the first in a series in which she plays a familiar female character trope, was filmed by Cornelius and her partner on an iPhone at 5am in Los Angeles so they wouldn’t encounter any people. “I have a weird fascination with Hollywood Blvd — it’s such a grotesque place most of the time,” says Cornelius. “But I knew we’d have the chance to experience it deserted and empty, and it was like a different place. I’d been watching a lot of ‘last human on earth’ apocalypse-type films. Mostly, the concept behind the clip was to have this character just owning it. There are so many things pregnant women are not ‘supposed' be doing, like having casual sex with strangers. There’s a loneliness, too, that I wanted to get across in the clip, but ultimately she’s in a state of friendliness with herself and the world.”

Dalhous end the 5-year silence with the long awaited follow up to 2016's House Number 44, presenting the second volume of The Composite Moods Collection. "Point Blank Range" reinterprets the established narrative with an inverse look at the proceedings. Taking the “point of view of the disease", the perspective is now turned inside out, revealing an alternate account from the eyes of the photographed subject of House Number 44. If Vol.1 was a documented presentation of another person's condition, Vol.2 takes the listener behind the facade.

From the outset, the album offers a narratively uncooperative stance, weaving together layers of anxiety and painful specificity that often overtly manifests the psychotic protagonist's stormy interior state. A clearly subjective assault, which is made evident right from opening track 'Transceivers' through to the imploding nature of 'Intramuscular Administration’, to the vulnerable, psychedelic mania of 'Open As A Glade Unfolding'. Continuing to work within the framework of a soundtrack-like structure, Dalhous ramps things up to provide the aural equivalent of sound and picture, manifesting an almost quasi-visual experience.

The entire record can be listened to as a continuous piece, each track seamlessly linked together as though part of an interconnecting nervous system. Where House Number 44 offered airy, widescreen soundscapes of detached detail, Point Blank Range presents an altogether different form. Creating airtight vacuums of agitated twitching feeling, tracks are pulled to the forefront of the stereo field, continually mutating their densely painted neurochemical hallucinations with a breadth of sound previously unheard on previous releases.

Listeners will be able to decipher nods to long standing soundtrack influences from composers such as Fabio Frizzi, with his use of strikingly bold and haunting melodies, to Tangerine Dream’s distinctively foggy atmospheres of The Keep. There are moments that evoke the nihilistic drones of Brian Gascoigne’s soundtrack to Phase IV, and the more horrific passages of metal clanging ambience from the likes of Chu Ishikawa with his scores for Shinya Tsukamoto.

After their former record label Blackest Ever Black disbanded, Dalhous found themselves out on a limb. It took 5 years to find a new home with Denovali. Given the unusually extended period between records, Dalhous had the time to dive deeper into the material, rendering a level of experimentation previously unavailable to them. Over 4 hours of material was created, a total of 1TB of data. Countless revisions to the track listing ensued with some of the unused material being reutilised in the making of the final chapter in the trilogy to form a direct companion piece.

‘Archive Series Volume no. 5: Tallahassee Recordings’ is the lost-in-time debut
album from Iron & Wine. A collection of songs recorded three years prior to his
official Sub Pop debut, ‘The Creek Drank the Cradle’ (2002). A period before the
concept of Iron & Wine existed and principal songwriter Sam Beam was studying
at Florida State University with the intent of pursuing a career in film.
‘Archive Series Volume no. 5’ documents the very first steps on a journey that
would lead to a career as one of America’s most original and distinctive singersongwriters. ‘The Creek Drank the Cradle’ arrived like a thief in the night with its
lo-fi, hushed vocals and intimate nature, while almost inversely Tallahassee
comes with a strange sense of confidence. Perhaps an almost youthful discretion
that likely comes from being too young to know better and too naïve to give a
shit.
The recordings themselves are more polished than ‘The Creek Drank the Cradle’
and give a peak into what a studio version of that record might have offered up.
‘Archive Series Volume no. 5’ was recorded over the course of 1998-1999 when
Beam and future bandmate EJ Holowicki moved into a house together. Beam
had not been performing publicly however, he was known for playing an original
song or two in the early morning glow of a long night. Holowicki - also in the film
program and who would go onto a career as a sound designer at Skywalker
Sound - had a mobile recording device and after some prodding convinced his
friend to record these late-night meditations.
Together they would record close to twenty-four songs, ideas and sketches, with
EJ on bass and Sam on vocals, guitar, harmonica and drums. The recordings -
all captured in the house where they lived - have a ‘live in the room’ feel akin to
say Neil Young’s ‘Harvest’ or Nick Drake’s ‘Five Leaves Left’, rather than the
homespun lo-fi 4-track home recording experiment taking place at the time.
These recordings, minus one track, have never been made available and were
instead left preserved on a hard drive for the last twenty years. The one track
that floated out there, called ‘In Your Own Time’ was shared without a title to
childhood friend Ben Bridwell (Band of Horses) at some point. The song became
known as the ‘Fuck Like A Dog’ song and Ben shared it with more than a few
folks during the golden era of mix CDs. Two of those folks were Jonathan
Poneman from Sub Pop and journalist Mike McGonigal, who included it on his
best songs of 2001 mix CD, passed out to friends and acquaintances. And for
many that is where the Iron & Wine story begins, until now.
‘Archive Series Volume no. 5’ is the foreword to your favourite book that you’ve
somehow skipped over time and time again. It’s an alternative history mixed with
some revisionist history told over the course of eleven songs. It’s also the debut
record by Iron & Wine some twenty years after the fact.

2LP on crystal clear vinyl. In these trying times, where intimacy and closeness are fraught with danger, Dans Dans (Dance Dance) brings you the sound of connection, communication, passion and togetherness.

In these trying times, where intimacy and closeness are fraught with danger, Dans Dans (Dance Dance) brings you the sound of connection, communication, passion and togetherness.

Dans Dans unites the talents of three of Belgium's most prolific music makers in Bert Dockx (Flying Horseman), Fred 'Lyenn' Jacques (Lyenn, Lanegan band) and Steven Cassiers (Dez Mona, DAAU). An utterly unique musical collective, the trio are set to release new album 'Zink' on the 23rd April via Ghent based independent, Unday Records.
From jazz, psychedelic blues and ecstatic noir soundtracks to spacey rock 'n' roll, Dans Dans cut their teeth on the cool jazz cafe scene in Flanders, Brussels with their sensational live performances and have since gone on to become a mainstay on the flourishing Belgian musical landscape.

Releasing their self-produced, eponymous debut album back in 2012, their highly distinctive, intuitive mix of musical styles and their ever-imaginative live shows caught the attention of discerning music lovers, journalists and promoters. A relatively unknown tour de force outside the Benelux region, Dans Dans have built a solid fan base since their inception with limited edition runs of early releases becoming collector's items among vinyl enthusiasts.

Well-received appearances at Cactus Festival, North Sea Jazz and Pukkelpop, as well as Gent Jazz, Ljubljana Jazz and Jazz Middelheim have confirmed their reputation as one of the most unique and exciting bands to come out of Belgium. In recent years, the group has been touring throughout Europe, garnering enthusiastic reactions beyond the Belgian borders as well. There's a case to be made that Dans Dans even played a key role in breaking down the wall between the Belgian jazz scene and the pop/rock circuit (years before pop journalists began referring to a New Wave of Belgian Jazz).

Opening with the moody noir rhythms of 'Cinder Bay', Dans Dans look to construct their own musical universe across 'Zink'. 'Naiad' unfolds into a devastating explosion of heavy feedback and wild, crashing drums before subtle electronica and baroque art-rock collide on 'Anemone' giving a good indication of Dans Dans' eclecticism. There's unquestionably a deep, underlying filmic beauty to the music, an evolving darkness and a perpetual sense of dread and paranoia. Elsewhere, 'Ravine' is intoxicating, provocative and uncompromising while the beatific 'Shell Star' is an infectious exploration of hypnotic grooves, atmospheric sounds and mind-bending melodies.

Producer Christine Verschorren (Philippe Catherine, Ivan Paduart) accentuates the music's wondrous fluidity throughout 'Zink'; the intriguing interplay; the subtle ties; the deep layering. Musical styles and influences are being blended organically and sublimated into what can only be called Dans Dans-music. "This is no fusion, no rock or jazz or ambient. This is the sound of the searching, intuitive human; of a timeless, mysterious dream; of the heart, the gut and the soul," says Dockx.

Alan Vega’s name is synonymous with unfettered, tireless creativity. Beginning in the late 1950s, when he was a fine art student at Brooklyn College, through his years playing in Suicide, and all the way up until his death in 2016, Vega was constantly creating. That

process naturally led to a wealth of material that didn’t see the light of day immediately when it was recorded, which came to be known as the Vega Vault. Mutator is the first in a series of archival releases from the Vault that will come out on Sacred Bones Records.

Mutator was recorded alongside Vega’s longtime collaborator Liz Lamere at his NYC studio from 1995-1996, and it serves as a document of a particularly fertile time in his creative life. He had 11 full-length solo albums come out during the ’80s, ’90s and ’00s - plus numerous collaborations, and Suicide records A Way of Life and Why Be Blue. Mutator wasn’t shelved intentionally, but Vega’s back-to-thegrindstone M.O. meant that he had moved on to making his next record before this one was finished. Lamere and Vega’s friend and confidante Jared Artaud (The Vacant Lots) rediscovered the raw, unmixed recordings from the Mutator sessions in the Vault in 2019. Soon after, they mixed and produced them into the visionary album that was lurking within those tapes.

“Our primary purpose for going into the studio was to experiment with sound, not to ‘make records,’” Lamere recalls. “I was playing the machines with Alan manipulating sounds. I played riffs while Alan morphed the sounds being channeled through the machines.”

At the time of the Mutator sessions, Vega was massively inspired by what was happening in the streets of New York - not only the hip hop scenes that were exploding throughout the outer boroughs, but also the literal sounds of the streets, the traffic noise and industrial ambience of city living. That influence trickled into the sounds he and Lamere captured in those sessions. That sensibility, paired with Vega’s unmistakable voice and force of personality, is what made it the great album it is now. The final piece was the production job, completed by Lamere and Artaud 25 years after the songs were first captured.

Alan Vega’s name is synonymous with unfettered, tireless creativity. Beginning in the late 1950s, when he was a fine art student at Brooklyn College, through his years playing in Suicide, and all the way up until his death in 2016, Vega was constantly creating. That

process naturally led to a wealth of material that didn’t see the light of day immediately when it was recorded, which came to be known as the Vega Vault. Mutator is the first in a series of archival releases from the Vault that will come out on Sacred Bones Records.

Mutator was recorded alongside Vega’s longtime collaborator Liz Lamere at his NYC studio from 1995-1996, and it serves as a document of a particularly fertile time in his creative life. He had 11 full-length solo albums come out during the ’80s, ’90s and ’00s - plus numerous collaborations, and Suicide records A Way of Life and Why Be Blue. Mutator wasn’t shelved intentionally, but Vega’s back-to-thegrindstone M.O. meant that he had moved on to making his next record before this one was finished. Lamere and Vega’s friend and confidante Jared Artaud (The Vacant Lots) rediscovered the raw, unmixed recordings from the Mutator sessions in the Vault in 2019. Soon after, they mixed and produced them into the visionary album that was lurking within those tapes.

“Our primary purpose for going into the studio was to experiment with sound, not to ‘make records,’” Lamere recalls. “I was playing the machines with Alan manipulating sounds. I played riffs while Alan morphed the sounds being channeled through the machines.”

At the time of the Mutator sessions, Vega was massively inspired by what was happening in the streets of New York - not only the hip hop scenes that were exploding throughout the outer boroughs, but also the literal sounds of the streets, the traffic noise and industrial ambience of city living. That influence trickled into the sounds he and Lamere captured in those sessions. That sensibility, paired with Vega’s unmistakable voice and force of personality, is what made it the great album it is now. The final piece was the production job, completed by Lamere and Artaud 25 years after the songs were first captured.

Sometimes a work of art comes unintentionally from a place from deep within the soul. It meanders and flops onto a table and sits and waits for its birth.
The album begins with "Wait Till The Stars Burn", a planetary ode to the Sun. The second track "Tribute to the Pharoahs Den", is a requiem for Danny Ray Thompson (R.I.P.) of the Sun Ra Arkestra, his music and legacy now floating above us in the infinity of space. Both tracks and featuring Marshall Allen and Knoel Scott (of the Sun Ra Arkestra).
The album ends with a requiem for Hal Willner (R.I.P.) whose devotion to celebrating the weird and insane was like an insatiable thirst leading to deep introspection and joy in harmony and sonic dissidence.
These compositions have all come from this place inside my bipolar, seroquil ridden mind. It is as much a tribute to the great composers who have inspired me; Alice Coltrane, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Philip Kelan Cohran, Bernard Herrmann, Ennio Morricone, Miles Davis, Sun Ra, John Carpenter, Quincy Jones, Old Bollywood, Film Noir, to name just a few. In my 23 years of being a composer of music I have had the great opportunity to score several films all of which never got any commercial fame. These films were made from the blood and sweat of film directors and their crews who tirelessly made incredible documents that were ultimately ignored by humanity. But that never stopped them nor will it stop me. These tracks are from the infinite celluloid that runs deep in my mind, body and soul. In my lifetime i never thought i would see the deaths of "Celluloid" or "analog recording". I refuse to accept the coroner reports on said fatalities, so here is my offering to the canon of cinematic overtures and analog self-preservation, for the films in our heads yet to be made.

For Böser Herbst, Thomas Fehlmann returns to the sediment of ages, drawing from a similar lexicon of sounds to that used on 2018’s ‘1929 – Das Jahr Babylon’. Like that album, Böser Herbst was produced as the soundtrack to a documentary made by Volker Heise, ‘Herbst 1929, Schatten Über Babylon’, which offers historical insight to the third season of the television series Babylon Berlin. It adds yet another string to the bow of this most forward-thinking and creative artist, whose history takes in NDW (Palais Schaumburg), techno (3MB) and psychedelic ambience (The Orb), plus a clutch of gorgeous solo albums that explore wide terrain, from the dancefloor through supine home listening to compelling soundtrack work. Fehlmann’s approach here was to ‘capture’ samples of contemporaneous music, “picking up the dirt and dust of original 1920s archive sound and music excerpts and shaping the essence into this selection of tunes,” he recalls. After delivering the material to the editing room, Fehlmann “threw all the pieces up in the air, deliberately lost the overview in consequence, researched the atmospheric thread and assembled it for this album.” That explains the singular nature of the material here, and its ability to sit together so neatly and discretely, as its own entity. For Böser Herbst is a music box of possibilities, shadowed by its historical provenance, but never crudely beholden to it, rather “keeping the references only as a distant nod, a scent.”

It’s certainly an evocative listen, a cornucopia of textural pleasure and sensual, tactile assemblage. The spiralling, psychedelic cycle of “Karnickel” winds its way between the ears like thread to the needle; “Mit Ausblick” immerses the listener in deep, gaseous tones, only to be lifted into the air by the glassy drones of “Umarmt”. “Wunschwechsler” crackles with the unpredictability of weather systems while a guitar-like loop unspools across the horizon. Throughout, you can catch tiny tastes of the source material, but they’re pressed into greater service, Fehlmann using these sources for their evocative capacity and then saturating them with grain and rumble, abstracting outwards. It’s a music of temporal disjuncture and clairvoyant resonance, “speaking with the past – alert, distant and quixotic.”

Für “Böser Herbst“ schürft Thomas Fehlmann tief in den Sedimenten der Zeit und schöpft dabei aus ganz ähnlichen Klangquellen wie auf dem 2018 erschienenen Album “1929 - Das Jahr Babylon“. Auch “Böser Herbst“ wurde als Soundtrack zu der von Volker Heise gedrehten Dokumentation “Herbst 1929, Schatten über Babylon“ produziert, die den historischen Background der dritte Staffel der deutschen Fernsehserie “Babylon Berlin“ beleuchtet und dabei Archivmaterial mit Stimmen unterschiedlichster Zeitzeugen verknüpft. Das neue Album fügt eine weitere Saite zum Bogen dieses überaus voraus denkenden und kreativen Künstlers hinzu, dessen Geschichte NDW (Palais Schaumburg), Techno (3MB) und psychedelischen Ambient (The Orb) umfasst, plus eine Reihe von großartigen Soloalben, die ein weites Terrain erkunden, von der Tanzfläche über entspanntes Hören bis hin zu Soundtracks.

Fehlmanns Herangehensweise auf diesem Album war es, Samples aus jener Zeit "einzufangen", "den Schmutz und Staub der originalen 1920er Archiv-, Sound- und Musikaufnahmen zu sammeln und als Essenz in die einzelnen Tracks einfließen zu lassen", erinnert er sich. Nachdem Fehlmann das Material im Schnittraum abgegeben hatte, "warf er alle Teile in die Luft, verlor dabei absichtlich den Überblick, suchte sich dann einen atmosphärischen roten Faden und setzte alles wieder zusammen." Das erklärt die Einzigartigkeit des vorliegenden Materials und dessen Eigenschaft, sich fein säuberlich und gänzlich unangestrengt zu einer Einheit zusammenzufügen. “Böser Herbst“ ist eine Spieldose voll unbegrenzter musikalischer Möglichkeiten, umspielt von düsteren historischen Quellen ohne darin zu ertrinken – Fehlmann ging es stattdessen darum, "die Referenzen nur wie eine flüchtige Geste, wie eine Ahnung von etwas zu behandeln."

“Böser Herbst“ löst eine Vielzahl an unterschiedlichen Vorstellungen beim Hörer aus, es ist ein wahres Füllhorn an lustvollen Texturen und sinnlicher, taktiler Assemblage. Der spiralförmige, psychedelische Kreisel von "Karnickel" dreht sich in die Ohren wie ein Faden ins Nadelöhr; "Mit Ausblick" lässt den Hörer in tiefe, gasförmige Töne eintauchen, um anschließend von den transparenten Drones von "Umarmt" in die Luft gehoben zu werden. "Wunschwechsler" knistert mit der Unberechenbarkeit eines aufziehenden Unwetters, während sich ein gitarrenartiger Loop am Horizont abzeichnet. Überall kann man winzige Spurenelemente des Ausgangsmaterials erhaschen, aber sie werden in einen größeren Kontext gesetzt; Fehlmann benutzt seine Quellen nur als Mittel zum Zweck, um eine bestimmte Wirkung hervorzurufen, die einzelnen Teilchen werden angereichert mit Struktur und Körper und schließlich abstrahiert wieder ins Außen gesendet. Es ist Musik, an der die Zeit sich bricht und in die Zukunft schaut wie in einen Resonanzraum: Musik, "die mit der Vergangenheit spricht - hellwach, mit aller gebotenen Distanz und voller Rätsel".

Hannah Peel’s latest work "Fir Wave" contains re-interpretations of the original music of the 1972 KPM series featuring Delia Derbyshire and the Radiophonic Workshop.



The new album, a sonic shimmer of textures and pulses that switches between raw atmospheric edges and environments, arrives with a fascinating history. As Peel explains, “The specialist library label KPM, gave me permission to reinterpret the original music of the celebrated 1972 KPM 1000 series: Electrosonic, the music of Delia Derbyshire and the Radiophonic Workshop.” This process of re-generation and finding fresh inspiration in pioneering, experimental electronics from the early 1970s is at the core of the album. Peel has made connections and new patterns that mirror the Earth’s ecological cycles through music. Peel explains, “I’m drawn to the patterns around us and the cycles in life that will keep on evolving and transforming forever. Fir Wave is defined by its continuous environmental changes and there are so many connections to those patterns echoed in electronic music - it’s always an organic discovery of old and new.” As Delia Derbyshire revealed in 2000 to BBC sound engineer, journalist and academic Jo Hutton: “I like new things that don’t seem new . . . as though they’ve always been there.” Known more recently for curating and presenting on BBC Radio 3’s Night Tracks, the Northern Irish Emmy-nominated composer and producer’s work is ambitious and forward-looking, adapting and re-inventing new genres and hybrid musical forms.



Recent albums include the solo electronic and pop work of Awake But Always Dreaming, which became an ode to her grandmother’s mind as she lived with dementia; the electronic ruralism of Chalk Hill Blue, an album recorded with the poet Will Burns; and the space and the unparalleled vastness of Mary Casio: Journey to Cassiopeia, scored for synthesisers and a 30 piece colliery brass band. In 2019 she composed and recorded the soundtrack for Game of Thrones: The Last Watch which earned her an Emmy nomination for ‘Outstanding Music Composition For A Documentary Series Or Special (Original Dramatic Score)’.

At the end of the '60s in Italy - but also abroad, especially in France and England - a very particular trend began to spread, that one known as 'Library music' or 'sonorization': as suggested by its name, those were real music libraries intended for the accompaniment of audiovisual productions such as

television programs, advertisements, documentaries and films. Since they were created in total artistic freedom condition, they are often difficult if not impossible to catalog, as they're not anchored to a specific musical genre; this freedom also allowed the authors to compose, sometimes in the most complete anonymity, experimental and avant-garde music, capable of anticipating the sounds that only many years later would have been widespread on a larger scale.

Egisto Macchi (1928-1992) was one of the most active composers of the sonorization and soundtrack genres together with artists such as Piero Umiliani, Alessandro Alessandroni and Ennio Morricone; he also collaborated with the latter in the experimental music project Gruppo di Improvvisazione Nuova Consonanza. "Fauna Marina" is among his most popular and sought-after by collectors titles: a set of eleven compositions intended to accompany the images of a hypothetical fish fauna documentary, an abstract hybrid of classical, contemporary and jazz music that is still fresh and surprising today.

"Fauna Marina" is part of a reissues series, made in collaboration with Edizioni Leonardi (Milan, Italy), of extremely rare library music LP's published between late '60s and early '70s, most of which have never been released again until today, and that are finally made available again for

collectors and sonorization music lovers.

Dream Violence, Michael Beach’s fourth full-length, is an epic album that explores the duality of the human condition. Or, as Beach himself puts it, the album is about “human futility, passion, desire, anger, frustration, and the struggle to maintain hope in a somewhat hopeless time.” Dream Violence, then, addresses the existential crisis of being an artist in 2020.

Known for his work touring with the Australian guitar pop band Thigh Master and the late, brilliantly eccentric Israeli guitarist Charlie Megira, currently the focus of a number of reissues by the Numero Group, Beach is the architect of a sound that is both well-built and ramshackle, straightforward and indeterminably complex, out of the norm yet familiar in all the best ways.

Dream Violence unfolds like a revelation, filled with sonic tumbleweeds that reference Neil Young’s On the Beach, Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska, the Velvet Underground’s Loaded, and the Go Betweens’ Before Hollywood. Influences ranging from the enigmatic outlier Megira to Glenn Branca to the Oblivians are combined to create a new, exhilarating sound, part of the path that Beach has been on since 2008’s Blood Courses. A veteran of year-end indie rock round ups beginning with Golden Theft in 2013 and continuing with Gravity/Repulsion, released in 2017, Beach distills the best of those early albums and adds sharpened intent.

Dream Violence works beautifully as a start-to-finish album. There are magnificent stand-alone moments: “Spring,” a raggedly building ballad that perfectly captures the ennui attached to new beginnings; “De Facto Blues,” a born-to-lose anthem that, says Beach, “is the sound of people totally at their wits end;” “Curtain of Night,” a simultaneously derelict and bright tribute to the late Megira, which sounds like it could’ve been cut at Muscle Shoals Sound Studio after the Rolling Stones wrapped up sessions for Sticky Fingers; and the delicately vulnerable “You Found Me Out,” which evokes equal parts Lou Reed and Joni Mitchell. On the latter, the lyrics “You found me out, on a ship at sea, you pulled me in, made a wreck of me,” encapsulate “the aimless of a modern world view in a future without hope and the draw/dependence of love in those times,” Beach explains.

Through music, Beach strives to convey both passion and compassion, energy and action. “My hope is that something gets communicated that makes people think outside of themselves or their surroundings,” he says. “To ask questions, and consider the effects of their decisions. To communicate some essential part of the human spirit that understands intuitively how to feel connected to each other rather than divide, exploit, separate, ignore, and all the other heinous shit we have the ability to do with each other.”

Recorded on two continents, Dream Violence documents Beach’s move from Oakland, California to Melbourne, Australia as he navigated a new music scene, plenty of bureaucratic red tape, and, ultimately, citizenship. Parts of the album were recorded and mixed at Tiny Telephone Recording in Oakland, at the end of a 2019 tour with Kelley Stoltz producing. Other tracks were recorded at Beach’s new home in Melbourne, where he could be “relaxed and sloppy in all the right ways,” and partially remixed at Phaedra Studios.

At the Memphis-based Goner label, Beach joins an increasingly unique roster of international musicians that reaches far beyond garage or indie rock to encompass artists like gospel singer Rev. John Wilkins, Kentucky rockers Archaeas, New Orleans iconoclasts Quintron and Miss Pussycat, and no-wavers Optic Sink.

When the pandemic hit the US, Chastity Belt’s Annie Truscott descended into a state of mourning. Her plan had been to join her partner, Jay Som’s Melina Duterte, as violinist on tour, a privilege rarely afforded since both maintain busy road schedules and for Truscott the prospect of spending most of the year in a van wasn’t met with exhaustion so much as exhilaration. At long last, she’d be making a living playing music, no side hustle needed. The cancellation of the tour represented a sidelined dream.

 Routine was born of this disappointment. Like the phoenix rising from the ashes, Truscott and Duterte’s collaborative project offers a glimpse of the creative possibilities that can emerge from a state of defeat.  Written and recorded over the course of a month in Joshua Tree, Routine’s lush debut EP ‘And Other Things’ finds the couple trying on new roles. Truscott, who plays bass in Chastity Belt, wrote the bulk of the material and sings on the EP, while Duterte, normally a band leader, used the project as an pportunity to, in her words, “Take the backseat,” as accompanist, producer, and engineer.

 Duterte describes the making of the EP as “seamless.” In the mornings, Truscott sat outside of the cabin in the not-yet-blazing sun and worked out chord progressions on guitar while Duterte slept in. Staring out at the horizon, Truscott could see a smattering of houses and the sharp outline of a mountain range but overall the property felt remote, far removed from home in Los Angeles. On long walks Truscott admired the recently bloomed spring flowers and pondered the legacy of friendships and experiences that made her. “I spend a lot of my time thinking about the people who’ve impacted my life,” she says. “‘Routine’ gave me an opportunity to explore those relationships through music.”

An unlikely meeting of two like-minded spirits, »First Man in the Moon« sees the former Swans guitarist and Hallow Ground regular Norman Westberg and the prolific double bass player Jacek Mazurkiewicz collaborate for five evocative tracks. The pair finds common ground beyond the boundaries of atmospheric drone, abstract jazz and experimental music and blurs the lines between the acoustic and the electronic.The two first met when the composer Mazurkiewicz supported Swans with his solo project 3FoNIA on their 2014 European tour. »I really enjoyed his approach,« says Westberg about the Polish musician’s blending of the acoustic qualities of his instrument with electronically generated sounds. A decision to collaborate was made and when the US-American musician returned to Eastern Europe to support Michael Gira on his solo tour in late 2019, Mazurkiewicz reached out to him with the idea of booking some studio time before Gira’s two concerts in Warsaw. »Recording was very fun and easy,« remembers Westberg. »It was just two people enjoying hearing and reacting to what the other is doing.« »First Man in the Moon« is not however a plain document of these improvised sessions, but also shaped by Mazurkiewicz’s approach as a composer. Once the recordings were finished, he selected and edited the recorded material, refining the peculiar dialogue between the guitarist’s meditative drones and bright chords and his own rhythmic yet subtle approach to playing the double bass, sometimes plucking the strings and occasionally using his bow to underscore
Westberg’s fleeting melodies, but also using the instrument in unconventional ways to generate sound. A feeling of weightlessness prevails throughout the aptly-titled »First Man in the Moon.« Even at their most abstract however, these five improvisations-turned-compositions remain tangible, lively, and joyfully explorative. It is a record that you wouldn’t expect from either of these musicians, but
the logical result of two idiosyncratic minds sharing not only space and time, but also their respective visions with each other. Credits:
Recorded at Studio Diamentowy Pies/ Damian Pielka, engineering/Piotr Mazurek, engineering assistance/Jacek Mazurkiewicz, mix/
Lawrence English, mastering/John Fell, photographs.

In the cinema, the composer must go to meet the filmmakers, enter their world, but without giving up his own. This is the difficulty or the paradox of music for the image. By collaborating with directors from a wide variety of backgrounds, I think I have indirectly discovered a lot about myself. It helped me to progress, to explore territories that were not naturally mine. Cinema is a laboratory where I have sought to construct original orchestral formulas combining Corsican polyphonies, musicians from jazz, variety, classical, or even rappers. Like the world today, a fragmented world where all cultures mingle. So said Bruno Coulais, one of the most innovative composers of contemporary cinema, during the tribute paid to him in 2011 at the Cinémathèque de Paris

In 1978, Bruno Coulais, a young composer of concert works, discovered in film music a new means of expression, a way of bringing the demands of his writing to the masses. François Reichenbach, then Josée Dayan, Jacques Davila, Souleymane Cissé or Laurent Heynemann, first on television and then in the cinema, lead him of his own accord in the discovery of this new world.

In 1995, he composed the music for Microcosmos. This centimeter-scale initiatory journey offers him the opportunity to reveal the full dimension of his writing. He injects into his score a strange lyricism, between wonder and fantasy, confirming the lesson learned from François Reichenbach: "to any documentary image, music brings a part of fiction".

The success of Microcosmos established the musician and made him the indispensable composer of other natural tales, notably alongside Jacques Perrin (Le Peuple migrateur, Oceans, Les Saisons, etc.). Other long-term relationships will be forged, in particular with Benoît Jacquot, with whom he has worked for more than a decade, not to mention Frédéric Schoendoerffer, James Huth or Jean-Paul Salomé.

In addition to great popular successes such as Les Choristes, Brice de Nice or Sur La Piste Du Marsipulami, it is hardly surprising that this insatiable curiosity has found in the animated cinema the most inspiring playgrounds, in particular through his collaboration with two exceptional designers, Henry Selick and Tomm Moore.

The first, American director of The Nightmare Before Christmas produced by Tim Burton, invites Bruno Coulais to sign in 2009 the magnificent score of Coraline (film nominated for the Oscars). 10 years later, he is about to find him for a new and beautiful Wendell & Wild adventure. For Irishman Tomm Moore, Bruno Coulais has already composed the music for two Oscar-nominated films, The Secret of Kells (2009) and Song Of the Sea (2014), and in 2020 he will sign the score for Wolfwalkers.

Whether it is about author's films or more mainstream films, Bruno Coulais maintains the same standards, always considering his art as a window open to the world. Much less wise than it seems, he reveals in it a gift of a modern alchemist and a very personal way of mixing the most diverse cultures in universal harmony at work.

Clarinetist, composer, singer & spiritual jazz soothsayer Angel Bat Dawid presents this powerful live document alongside her band, Tha Brothahood. LIVE was mostly recorded on November 1st, 2019, at Haus der Berliner Festspiele in Berlin, Germany, during the 2019 edition of JazzFest Berlin. For Angel and Tha Brothahood - which includes Deacon Otis Cooke (vocals, synth), Viktor Le Givens (vocals, auxiliary instruments), Xristian Espinoza (tenor sax, percussion), Norman W. Long (electronics, synths), Dr. Adam Zanolini (double bass, bass guitar, soprano sax, flute, percussion), Isaiah Collier (drums), and Asher Gamedze (drums) - it was the first stop of their first European tour. Angel and her band experienced a number of difficult, racially charged interactions during their two days in Berlin. But despite, or perhaps in light of the difficulties they faced, they performed a set at Berliner Festspiele that Angel considers to be one of their best ever. "The show was very deep, and really helped me to process all the rage, and uncomfortable things I was feeling... It made me think of all the artists of the past who endured way more than I ever will with this music industry. It was a very freeing and beautiful show... we played our ass off!!"

Clive Phillips, Dominic Goodman, Peter Blundell are Mosquitoes, a somewhat inscrutable London-based outfit in operation for something close to seven years now, and have released music across a host of celebrated and broad-minded underground labels. Give or take the occasional interview in the less-straight parts of the music press, this is as much formal biography as their music has thus far allowed, for there's something essentially unknowable at the centre of what makes Mosquitoes what they are. So murky is their early history in fact, the first two self-released Mosquitoes records seemed to disappear from sight before really becoming visible. As more records have emerged, those first communications accumulate new meanings, acting as vital documents in tracking the evolution of a band who stand at the vanguard of contemporary British music.

The second of these records, recorded to tape in summer 2016 and first released as a single-sided 12" under the name MOS-002, is arguably the first true iteration of Mosquitoes. Now fittingly renamed Mosquitoes for its reissue as a dubplate-style 10" on World of Echo on 5th March, these five cryptically titled, shape-shifting tracks, see the trio embrace a near-genre-less fluidity, and in doing so express a unique combination of both freedom and intent. By design or instinct, Mosquitoes stand at their own inverted rock nexus, presenting a music that's turned inside out, and in doing so, music that twists the listener the same way.

In that sense, Mosquitoes plug into a long lineage of DIY savant iconoclasts, those outliers who would deny orthodoxy in order to excavate new languages and ideas - The Dead C, This Heat, the anti-formalism of No Wave, David Toop's General Strike. As such, Mosquitoes rely on a musical pluralism in order to take it apart - you must know how something is made before you reassemble it anew. Labelling this an EP may possibly underplay the breadth and ambition of what's on show. Later records would arguably be more cohesive, but what stands as particularly startling with this early work is their fearless and all-encompassing dive into the avant garde. Consider the anti-rockism of the scorched earth 90s re-imagined through a distinctly avant filter of free jazz and dub aesthetics. And it's the latter which perhaps shapes Mosquitoes most, dub the perfect vehicle for the articulation of such wilful anti-formalism. Make no mistake, this is music that's unafraid to be tough, to demand something of the listener and to not ask permission. And to bear witness to a rejection of formalism so aggressively pursued is to be reconciled.

With his new album, Year Of The Living Dead, Vienna-born and LA-based producer John Tejada finds a blissful extended moment of balance between the new and the familiar. Anyone who’s followed his career to date, which has included four previous albums for Kompakt, outings for storied labels like Plug Research, Playhouse and Cocoon, and numerous remixes and collaborations – most recently, his Wajatta duo with actor and musician Reggie Watts – will immediately sense the warmth and eloquence that Tejada brings to his gilded, pliant techno and electro hybrids. But there’s more here, too; an explorer’s glimmer in the producer’s eye, as he gets to grips with new ways of working and being, while offering a reflective opening for the listener, something echoed in artwork by graphic designer and ‘contemplative artist’ David Grey.

“The album was started using tools I was unfamiliar with, which became an interesting exploratory process,” Tejada says. “Staying away from the obvious and having to re-learn simple things was a fun challenge.” You can hear these new creative pulsions pushing the eight tracks on Year Of The Living Dead ever-forward; the album has an unique cast, and though there are trace elements of the genres Tejada has indulged previously, he’s never quite put them together this way before. There’s the dubwise glitter sprinkled across the moody opener “The Haunting Of Earth”, the kind caresses found amongst the deftly woven textures of “Sheltered”, and the churchy melancholy, all hymnal and golden, of “Echoes Of Life”.

Year Of The Living Dead also speaks obliquely to its moment, though Tejada works this implicitly, allowing the strange circumstances of 2020 to cast their inevitable shadow without being obvious or didactic. “The production process began right before lockdown and continued through what felt like a very serious time for all of us,” he recalls. “Not being able to see or touch our loved ones made me feel we are all like ghosts. We can observe from a distance but cannot really be there. We are isolated and alone.” And yet, Year Of The Living Dead’s tenderness offers an out for that anxiety and loneliness, its intimate immensities gifting the album a redemptive and compassionate core. Compact and glistening, Year Of The Living Dead sculpts unassuming beauty.

Mit seinem neuen Album “Year Of The Living Dead“ findet der in Wien geborene und in Los Angeles lebende Produzent John Tejada die richtige Balance zwischen Neuem und Vertrautem. Wer seine bisherige Karriere verfolgt hat, seine vier Alben für Kompakt, Beiträge für Labels wie Plug Research, Playhouse und Cocoon, zahlreiche Remixe und Kollaborationen wie zuletzt das Projekt Wajatta zusammen mit dem Schauspieler und Musiker Reggie Watts, spürt sofort wieder die Wärme und Eloquenz, die Tejada in seine geschmeidigen Techno-Elektro-Hybride einbringt. Doch es geht auch noch einen Schritt weiter. Da ist dieses Aufblitzen des Entdeckers im Auge eines Produzenten, der sich mit neuen Arbeits- und Seinsweisen auseinandersetzt und dem Zuhörer gleichzeitig etwas sehr Offenes und Nachdenkliches anbietet, etwas, das im Artwork des Grafikdesigners und "kontemplativen Künstlers" David Grey nachklingt.

"Ich hatte angefangen, das Album mit mir noch unbekannten Tools zu produzieren, was sich zu einem interessanten Forschungsprozess für mich entwickelte", sagt Tejada. "Sich vom allzu Offensichtlichen zu trennen und einfache mal Dinge neu lernen zu müssen, war eine recht spaßige Herausforderung.“ Man kann diese neuen kreativen Impulse hören, die “Year Of The Living Dead“ auf einer Länge von 8 Tracks nach vorne treiben; das Album hat einen einzigartigen Ansatz, denn obwohl es Elemente der Genres gibt, denen Tejada zuvor gefrönt hat, hatte er sie doch noch nie zuvor so zusammengefügt wie hier. Da ist dieses dubbige Glitzern im atmosphärischen Opener "The Haunting Of Earth", die freundlichen Zärtlichkeiten, die man in den Texturen von "Sheltered" findet, und schließlich die heilige Melancholie im hymnischen "Echoes Of Life".

Auch “Year Of The Living Dead“ enthält Andeutungen auf die momentane Situation und erlaubt es, den seltsamen Umständen des Jahres 2020, ihren unvermeidlichen Schatten zu werfen, ohne dabei zu offensichtlich oder gar belehrend zu sein. "Der Produktionsprozess begann kurz vor dem (ersten) Lockdown und setzte sich in einer Zeit fort, die sich für uns alle als eine sehr ernste Zeit anfühlte", erinnert er sich. "Da wir nicht in der Lage waren, unsere Lieben zu sehen oder zu berühren, hatte ich das Gefühl, dass wir alle wie Geister sind. Wir können nur distanzierte Beobachter sein, aber wir können nicht wirklich anwesend sein. Wir sind isoliert und allein." Und doch scheint die Zärtlichkeit von "Year Of The Living Dead" einen Ausweg aus dieser Angst und Einsamkeit anzubieten, die grenzenlose Intimität des Albums enthält einen erlösenden und mitfühlenden Kern. Derart konsistent und schillernd formt "Year Of The Living Dead" eine unprätentiöse Schönheit.

Driving anywhere in Texas can cost you half a day, easy. For example, it’ll take you over four hours just to get from R&B singer Leon Bridges’ hometown of Fort Worth down to Houston, where the psychedelic wanderers in Khruangbin hail from. The state is vast, crisscrossed with rugged expanses of road flanked by limestone cliffs and granite mountains, forests of pine and mesquite, miles of desert or acres of sprawling grassland, all depending on what part you’re in. And it’s all baking under the Texas Sun that lends its name to Bridges and Khruangbin’s new collaborative release. “Big sky country, that’s what they call Texas,” Khruangbin bassist Laura Lee says. “The horizon line goes all the way from one side to another without interruption. There’s something really comforting about that.” On ‘Texas Sun’, these two members of the state’s musical vanguard meet up somewhere in the middle of that scene, in the mythical nexus of Texas’ past, present, and future - a dreamy badlands where genres blur as seamlessly as the terrain. It calls equally to the cowboys bootscooting at Billy Bob’s in Fort Worth, the chopped-andscrewed hip hop fans rattling slabs on the southside of Houston, the art-school kids dropping acid in Austin, the cross-cultural progeny who grew up on listening to both mariachi and post-hardcore out on the Mexican borders of El Paso. All of these things, overlapping in a multi-coloured melange, purple hues as vivid and unpredictable as one of the state’s rightfully celebrated sunsets. A journey through homesick reminiscences, backseat romances and late night contemplations, the kind of record made for listening with the windows down and the road humming softly beneath you. Like the highways that inspired it, ‘Texas Sun’ is guaranteed to get you where you’re going - especially if you’re in no particular hurry to get there. Khruangbin and Leon Bridges are critically acclaimed artists with extensive coverage in print and online, including the New York Times, NPR, FADER, four Grammy nominations (Leon Bridges), The New Yorker, Washington Post and Pitchfork, among many others.

Montreal-based producer & DJ Slick Shoota brings us Function, his debut LP and first solo release on the Teklife imprint. A native of Norway known for his renowned Oslo club night Ball Em Up, he's been a member of the elite crew since 2015, contributing tracks to the label's compilations such as On Life Vol. 2 and VIP Trax. Using a unique palate that combines both traditional footwork drums and eclectic otherworld sonics, this album expands on the signature sound he's been brewing during the course of his career, celebrating his longtime love of the Chicago soundscape, with a healthy helping of UK rave, jungle, and vibes from other fast paced club realms. Slick starts the record off with Hovercraft, a big burly mutant rap beat riding a glowing titanic wave of jungle subbass, with vicious hi-hats stabbing through the mix. Desire Path follows with hysterical horns cruising along a stampede of erratic Chicago percussion. A glitchy, malfunctioning computer meets drumline stomps on See Me Flex, resulting in a psychotic, yet psychedelic sci-fi soundscape. Ultra-distorted hardcore kicks open up Jellyneck, dropping straight into a dungeon of ghostly vocals and headlong toms. Warehouse 2K opens up the B-side with R&B chops and lasers floating on a charming cloud of pulsating pads. Mad doppler sirens loop around your head on Delahaze, as distant clangs and crashes fight an impatient, throbbing bassline. Classic rave atmospheres are met with Slick's elegant sound design on MTL Hardcore, his ode to his adoptive city. The album closes off with Special Tek, channeling the signature quirky drum sounds of the late DJ Rashad over a pounding, fast paced house beat, a wonderful nod to the Windy City and its influential sonic culture. Carving out his own sound from the legacies of Chicago, the UK, and other underground club hotspots, Slick Shoota has found his own recognizable voice within these realms of dance music, and this LP serves as documentation of that solidified voice. Years of studying the masters and immersing himself with their work has clearly paid off, and he's respectfully taking these sounds he loves in exciting new directions. Bridging gaps both historical and geographical, Function marks a pivotal point in his career, and is clear evidence that Slick Shoota is vital member of the legendary Teklife family.

People On Sunday is an original soundtrack to the 1930 silent film variously known as Menschen am Sonntag, Les Hommes le Dimanche and People On Sunday. The film is a key work of interwar German cinema, based on a screenplay by Billy Wilder.

Like Domenique Dumont’s earlier albums, Comme Ça and Miniatures De Auto Rhythm, People On Sunday evokes a more innocent, carefree time conjured by wistful electronics full of warmth and melody. Touching on the hazy exotica that made those two records so alluring, here Dumont draws on his love of classical music, library music and early electronic experimentation to create a timeless, optimistic sound. If his past productions possessed a certain Mediterranean quality, across these 13 new pieces Dumont’s shimmering synth-pop has an enchanting simplicity.

Part documentary, part fiction, the film People On Sunday follows a group of characters going about their business in Weimar-era Berlin over one weekend and shows normal life in Germany before dictatorship.

“The film shows people and their surroundings shortly before all of it was destroyed,” says Dumont. “Ironically, watching this movie with the eyes of today, it looks more surreal than documentary. And I can’t help but think and reflect about the times we are living in now. We might have similar desires people had a hundred years ago, but we now have a completely different approach to life.”

*People On Sunday is the third album by Domenique Dumont.
*Freshly signed to The Leaf Label, having previously released two albums on Parisian electronic/dance label Antinote.
*It follows on from the cult success of synth-pop exotica albums Comme Ça (2015) and Miniatures de Auto Rhythm (2018)The album was originally conceived as a soundtrack to the classic 1930 German silent film known variously as Menschen am Sonntag, Les Hommes le Dimanche and People on Sunday.
*It was originally performed at Les Arcs Film Festival, with plans for further film festival concerts when regulations allow.
*Watch the video for first single ‘People On Sunday’ featuring excerpts from the film.
*Artwork and design by artist Edward Carvalho-Monaghan.
*Support from Pitchfork, Resident Advisor, FACT Magazine, Gorilla vs Bear, KEXP, BBC 6 Music’s Tom Ravenscroft, Mary Anne Hobbs and NTS Radio’s Charlie Bones, among others.
*Dumont recently remixed Domino’s Jaakko Eino Kalevi, and has also reworked tracks by Cola Boyy and Mark Barrott.
*Festival appearances include Mutek Montreal, Dekmantel, Nuits Sonores, Milhões de Festa and the Venice Biennale.

‘Dekalb Works’ is the collaborative project of Austin Peru (Vision Fortune) & Daniel Creahan (Sweat Equity / Alien D). Born out of a shared deep sociological interest of dialects and cultural frameworks, and the effects these have on meaning within modes of speech, the pair here delve into the dialects of their own beginnings, mining US/British regional accents and weaving these situational scenes through a textured, intentionally disjointed, hand made soundscape of bass tension and fleeting, glistening melody – adding additional layers of emotion and meaning to everyday observations of language.

‘Duologue’ intends to blur the lines between perceived and constructed reality, occupying a gauzy, dreamlike space shared by the likes of Hype Williams & James Ferraro, where foggy sonars & deep subs provide the backbone to both eccentric and mundane ephemeral flutters of dialect.

‘Duologue’ revels in its variance of linguistic stylings – from the deep US south religious lament of ‘of a’ hovering above an ambience of Zither & Bells, to the doom laden sax skronk and vocal stutter of ‘with’, to the creeping stripped micro dub of ‘only’ which allows the familiar hue of the British news reader and typical West Midlands dialectical moments to clash – aptly documenting of an impending collision.

This is certainly one for heads into all things slow & spacious - for sure there’s a lot to digest and get lost in here across the records quite intentionally intoxicating ark, where touch points and historical nods range from Laraaji’s signature ambience to Ernest Hood’s visionary ‘Neighbourhoods’, filtered through modern outer sound explorers such as John T. Gast, Mark Lecky, and the bass minimalism of SND.

The debut album from Kiri Ra! is an intuitive journey through landscapes of spectral otherness with colors of post classical minimalism, ambient folk and spiritual jazz. Starting as cross Baltic improvisation group in 2014, Kiri Ra! found form in the winter of 2016 when Finnish experimental artist Lau Nau, Finnish jazz saxophonist Linda Fredriksson, and Swedish pianist Matti Bye were commissioned by The Swedish Film Institute to create music for experimental amateur documentary films from its archive. Their debut album is made up entirely of improvised live studio recordings that stemmed from this film-scoring effort. With meticulous attention to detail and a sense of wonder, the players are collective witnesses to what can unfold between three musicians in a room. As illustrated on the tracks "Happlo'os" and "))Glänta//", softly played piano ostinatos, field recordings and bowed percussion set a visceral foundation for the saxophone to carve melodic tones of tingling melancholia. This warmth and sense of intimacy prevails throughout the album, as illustrated on the serene track "Linnesöndagen Gynnas Icke", whilst "Kites Över Gärdet" is an almost supernatural unfolding of timelessness.

More than 40 years after its original release, this limited and numbered facsimile edition of Keith Jarrett’s legendary 10-LP box set “Sun Bear
Concerts” is recreated from original analog sources.
Sun Bear Concerts - documenting five complete solo performances by Keith Jarrett in Japan - counts as a milestone achievement in the history of jazz recording. As Down Beat wrote, on the occasion of the original release, Jarrett’s improvisations are “the inventions of a giant, overpoweringly intimate in the way they can draw a listener in and hold him captive. Jarrett has once more stepped into the cave of his creative consciousness and brought to light music of startling power, majesty and warmth.”
Rich in incident and detail, the music in this beautifully produced, illustrated and presented ten-LP set, first issued in 1978 revealed Jarrett as a player of limitless creativity, unique in his ability to find new forms in the moment, night after night. “These marathons showed Jarrett to be one of the greatest improvisers in jazz,” Ian Carr wrote in his biography of the pianist, “with an apparently inexhaustible flow of rhythmic and melodic ideas, one of the most brilliant pianistic techniques of all, and the ability to project complex and profound feeling.” The present edition is a facsimile of the original LP set, described by the late Haus der Kunst curator Okwui Enwezor as “part of ECM’s declaration of independence from standard packaging of jazz records. Setting itself apart in this way, ECM treated its recordings as works of art by musicians of the highest artistic and conceptual order.”
A work of art by any standards, Sun Bear Concerts brings together solo concerts in November 1976 in Kyoto, Osaka, Nagoya, Tokyo and Sapporo, in recordings made by Japanese engineer Okihiro Sugano and producer Manfred Eicher, who travelled through Japan with Keith Jarrett. The set’s book-form packaging, with design by Barbara Wojirsch, includes photographs by Klaus Knaup, Tadayuki Naitoh and Akira Aimi.

One of the most striking documents of Italy’s Minimalist movement, Giusto Pio’s "Motore Immobile" is a work with few equivalents. Produced by Franco Battiato in 1979, at the outset of a long and fruitful period of collaboration between the two composers, and issued by the legendary Cramps Records, its triumphs were met by silence, before falling from view.

"Motore Immobile" now sits within a reappraisal of a large neglected body of efforts made by the Italian avant-garde during the second half of the 1970’s and early 80’s. It is singular, but not alone. It resonates within a collective world of shimmering sound, one familiar to fans of Battiato, Lino Capra Vaccina, Luciano Cilio, Roberto Cacciapaglia, Francesco Messina and Raul Lovisoni.

An exercise in elegant restraint - note and resonance held to the most implicit need. Where everything between root and embellishment has been stripped away. A sublime organ drone, against interventions of deceptively simple structural complexity - executed by Piano, Violin, and Voice. A sonic sculpture reaching heights which few have touched. A thing of beauty and an album as perfect as they come.

The five members of Sun June spent their early years spread out across the United States, from the boonies of the Hudson Valley to the sprawling outskirts of LA. Having spent their college years within the gloomy, cold winters of the North East, Laura Colwell and Stephen Salisbury found themselves in the vibrant melting-pot of inspiration that is Austin, Texas. Meeting each other while working on Terrence Malick's 'Song to Song', the pair were immediately taken by the city's bustling small clubs and honky-tonk scene, and the fact that there was always an instrument within reach, always someone to play alongside. Coming alive in this newly discovered landscape, Colwell and Salisbury formed Sun June alongside Michael Bain on lead guitar, Sarah Schultz on drums, and Justin Harris on bass and recorded their debut album live to tape, releasing it via the city's esteemed Keeled Scales label in 2018. The band coined the term 'regret pop' to describe the music they made on the 'Years' LP. Though somewhat tongue in cheek, it made perfect sense ~ the gentle sway of their country leaning pop songs seeped in melancholy, as if each subtle turn of phrase was always grasping for something just out of reach. Sun June returns with Somewhere, a brand new album, out February 2021. It's a record that feels distinctly more present than its predecessor. In the time since, Colwell and Salisbury have become a couple, and it's had a profound effect on their work; if Years was about how loss evolves, Somewhere is about how love evolves. "We explore a lot of the same themes across it," Colwell says, "but I think there's a lot more love here." Somewhere is Sun June at their most decadent, a richly diverse album which sees them exploring bright new corners with full hearts and wide eyes. Embracing a more pop-oriented sound the album consists of eleven beautiful new songs and is deliberately more collaborative and fully arranged: Laura played guitar for the first time; band members swapped instruments, and producer Danny Reisch helped flesh out layers of synth and percussion that provides a sweeping undercurrent to the whole thing. Throughout Somewhere you can hear Sun June blossom into a living-and-breathing five-piece, the album formed from an exploratory track building process which results in a more formidable version of the band we once knew. 'Real Thing' is most indicative of this, a fully collaborative effort which encompasses all of the nuances that come to define the album. "Are you the real thing?" Laura Colwell questions in the song's repeated refrain. "Honey I'm the real thing," she answers back. They've called this one their 'prom' record; a sincere, alive-in-the-moment snapshot of the heady rush of love. "The prom idea started as a mood for us to arrange and shape the music to, which we hadn't done before," the band explains. " Prom isn't all rosy and perfect. The songs show you the crying in the bathroom,, the fear of dancing, the joy of a kiss - all the highs and all the lows." It's in both those highs and lows where Somewhere comes alive. Laura Colwell's voice is mesmerising throughout, and while the record is a document of falling in love, there's still room for her to wilt and linger, the vibrancy of the production creating beautiful contrasts for her voice to pull us through. Opening track 'Bad With Time' sets this tone from the outset, both dark and mysterious, sad and sultry as it fascinatingly unrolls. "I didn't mean what I said," Colwell sings. "But I wanted you to think I did." Somewhere showcases a gentle but eminently pronounced maturation of Sun June's sound, a second record full of quiet revelation, eleven songs that bristle with love and longing. It finds a band at the height of their collective potency, a marked stride forward from the band that created that debut record, but also one that once again is able to transport the listener into a fascinating new landscape, one that lies somewhere between the town and the city, between the head and the heart; neither here nor there, but certainly somewhere.

Wretched Cuts is the new solo EP by gender-nonconforming techno artist, Projekt Gestalten. The release comes via the New York’s Mild Fantasy imprint run by DJ Elle Dee and features three original themes focusing on introspective techno plus a remix by veteran, The Lady Machine.

The project reflects an array of themes using as the starting point the story of Estamira and the Brazilian documentary of the same name, telling her life story. Estamira was an incredibly enlightened older woman who scattered one of the largest landfills of Rio de Janeiro for food. Not because she had to, but because she loved that place as she loved “her own children” and enjoyed making a living out of other people’s disposable goods. Simultaneously, while dealing with schizophrenia and abuse, she believed she was a superior spiritual being whose magical powers could control time, space, and other elements of nature.

The tracks are inspired by some of her most memorable quotes and moments that made an impact on Projekt Gestalten. “Wise People In Reverse” goes into a darker approach and samples Estamira’s voice talking in a mysterious unknown language with an unrevealed force, using only a broken piece of a telephone that she had just found it in the trash. “Morte Macaca” takes a rhythmic approach towards dub techno, and “Holographic Principle” gets trippier and hallucinogenic with Projekt Gestalten’s signature acid lines. The Lady Machine’s “Wise People In Reverse” remix takes the original theme to a driving, peak hour approach and transforms it into an effective DJ tool.

“There are no more innocent people on Earth, only wise people in reverse”.

NEP was a loose multimedia collective formed in 1982 Zagreb, ex-Yugoslavia. The founder Dejan Krsic collaborated with various artists in a quest of re-thinking the stale concepts of art history, position of the author and the barriers between pop and elitist high culture. Heavily influenced by Walter Benjamin and Andy Warhol in theory and Brian Eno and Kraftwerk in music, Krsic created NEP as an umbrella term (meaning Nova Evropa or New Europe) of diverse rule-breaking activities, covering graphic design, music, photography, video, news-media and theoretical work. Musically NEP focused on experiments in ambient and tape-music, self-released and hard to find compilation tapes like "The Cassette Played Poptones" (1988). Deeply immersed in pop-culture, politics and art theory Krsic's search for perfect pop music with cutting critical edge peaked in 1989, the year 'Decadance' track was conceived in studio. Fox & His Friends published the single in 2017 with Snuffo Remix on B-side. It received rave reviews in music press like MixMag and DJ Mag and it is still played on dance-floors around the world. But the story around the NEP is musically (as well as artistically) much wider: for the first time Fox & His Friends team compiles best cuts from unreleased and rare NEP tapes, covering the period from 1985 to 1989 on POP NOT POP abum. Dejan Krsic is now famous graphic designer and art historian in Croatia. Other collaborators include Laibach and Borghesia photographer Jane Stravs, artist and TV director Gordana Brzovic, Jovan Culibrk, now Bishop at The Serbian Orthodox Church and Anja Rupel, singer of cult Yugoslavian synth-pop group Videosex as well as the other members of Videosex, Iztok Turk and Janez Krizaj who produced some of the tracks. Other collaborators were talented producers Robert Logozar and Davor Daga Devcic, singers Linda Cooper, Natalija, Alexx Kovacs... The list of collaborations is long. Some of the memorable moments on POP NOT POP album are early demo version of Decadance 'How Do I Dance To This Music?' with blue movies samples and drum machine experiments like early Cabaret Voltaire, then Krsic's reinterpretation of legendary Kraftwerk's Trans Europe Express anthem as 'Transcendance', or 'Radical Chic', where Dejan himself and Anja Rupel from Videosex make lovely couple of dandy-esque fashionistas, singing chart-friendly radio synthpop tune that contrasts the A-side (The 'NOT POP' side) - full of experiments, dark wave and industrial nods to Test Department and Cabs. B-side is 'THE POP' side that will surprise most of the NEP followers from their early experimental cassette days. Sunny, danceable, joyfull pop that reveals the many faces of NEP. As Kraftwerk today is more of a concept than a band, NEP does the same by re-writing its products (musical, graphical, theoretical, activist) and constantly puts them in permanent state of change or re-mix. In the future, only NEP logo will be enough to consider something an art piece, and NEP will be everybody who wants to, as their Art Manifest claims. Until that day comes, 'POP NOT POP' is a document of how the vivid and creative were art-scenes in socialist Yugoslavia. Some of the graphic work, cut-ups from theory and Manifesto are also included on this LP, designed by Dejan Krsic aka NEP himself. This release is made from the original master tapes and published for the first time on vinyl.

La Locura de Machuca is the story of one man’s bizarre odyssey into Colombia’s coastal music underground, and the wild, hypnotic sounds he helped bring up to the surface.

One night in 1975, a successful tax lawyer named Rafael Machuca had his mind blown in Barranquilla’s ‘Plaza de los Musicos’. Overnight he went from a high ranking position in the Columbian revenue authority to visionary production guru of the newly formed record label that bore his name, Discos Machuca, and for the next six years he devoted his life to releasing some of the strangest, most experimental Afro Psychedelia Cumbias ever produced. La Locura de Machuca is the story of one man’s bizarre odyssey into Colombia’s coastal music underground, and the wild, hypnotic sounds he helped bring up to the surface.

The Colombian music industry was thriving in the mid-seventies, but while homegrown bolero and vallenato tunes were doing well on the charts, it was imported African records that were setting crowds on fire at the picos – the sound-systems that fuelled neighbourhood parties – and wherever those records were played there were always a handful of groups who were inspired to plug traditional Cumbia directly into the electric currents coming from across the Atlantic.

It was these obscure bands, who fused Colombian and African rhythms with the swirling organs and psychedelic guitars of underground rock, that fired Machuca’s imagination. While the label made its money releasing popular hits by legends such as Alejandro Durán and Aníbal Velásquez, that money was poured back into a unique run of experimental releases by fringe artists such as La Banda Africana, King Somalie, Conjunto Barbacoa, and Abelardo Carbono, one of the godfathers of Champeta Criolla.

When Machuca couldn’t find groups to realise his particular vision, he simply created them himself. Drawing on a fearsome roster of musicians associated with the label, he assembled bands that lasted only as long as it took to record an album ,and unleashed the results – complete with arrestingly unusual album covers – under a series of different names such as Samba Negra or El Grupo Folclórico. This unorthodox approach led his longtime recording engineer, Eduardo Dávila, to describes Machuca’s productions as the “B-Movies of Colombian music.”

The story of Doctor Machuca and his eccentric exploits tells of one of Colombia’s most atypical and peculiar record companies; a defining pillar of Afro-Caribbean psychedelia. His productions have come to represent the roots of Champeta and set the pedigree standards for Afro and Costeño avant-garde. The seventeen tracks on La Locura de Machuca, harvested from the darkest, strangest corners of the Discos Machuca catalogue, sound like little else recorded before or since.

Shame follow up their wildly acclaimed debut with a James Ford-produced peek into the riddled mind of the band's frontman, Charlie Steen. There are moments on Drunk Tank Pink where you almost have to reach for the sleeve to check this is the same band who made 2018's Songs Of Praise. Such is the jump Shame have made from the riotous post-punk of their debut to the sprawling adventurism and twitching anxieties laid out here. The South Londoner's blood and guts spirit, that wink and grin of devious charm, is still present, it's just that it's grown into something bigger, something deeper, more ambitious and unflinchingly honest. The genius of Drunk Tank Pink is how these lyrical themes dovetail with the music. Opener Alphabet dissects the premise of performance over a siren call of nervous, jerking guitars, its chorus thrown out like a beer bottle across a mosh pit. Songs spin off and lurch into unexpected directions throughout here, be it March Day's escalating aural panic attack or the shapeshifting darkness of Snow Day. There's a Berlin era Bowie beauty to the lovelorn Human For A Minute while closer Station Wagon weaves from a downbeat mooch into a souring, soullifting climax in which Steen elevates himself beyond the clouds and into the heavens. Or at least that's what it sounds like. From the womb to the clouds (sort of), Shame are currently very much in the pink.

Shame follow up their wildly acclaimed debut with a James Ford-produced peek into the riddled mind of the band's frontman, Charlie Steen. There are moments on Drunk Tank Pink where you almost have to reach for the sleeve to check this is the same band who made 2018's Songs Of Praise. Such is the jump Shame have made from the riotous post-punk of their debut to the sprawling adventurism and twitching anxieties laid out here. The South Londoner's blood and guts spirit, that wink and grin of devious charm, is still present, it's just that it's grown into something bigger, something deeper, more ambitious and unflinchingly honest. The genius of Drunk Tank Pink is how these lyrical themes dovetail with the music. Opener Alphabet dissects the premise of performance over a siren call of nervous, jerking guitars, its chorus thrown out like a beer bottle across a mosh pit. Songs spin off and lurch into unexpected directions throughout here, be it March Day's escalating aural panic attack or the shapeshifting darkness of Snow Day. There's a Berlin era Bowie beauty to the lovelorn Human For A Minute while closer Station Wagon weaves from a downbeat mooch into a souring, soullifting climax in which Steen elevates himself beyond the clouds and into the heavens. Or at least that's what it sounds like. From the womb to the clouds (sort of), Shame are currently very much in the pink.

Germany Exclusive on Smoke Marble Vinyl, only 1000 copies available. Shame follow up their wildly acclaimed debut with a James Ford-produced peek into the riddled mind of the band's frontman, Charlie Steen. There are moments on Drunk Tank Pink where you almost have to reach for the sleeve to check this is the same band who made 2018's Songs Of Praise. Such is the jump Shame have made from the riotous post-punk of their debut to the sprawling adventurism and twitching anxieties laid out here. The South Londoner's blood and guts spirit, that wink and grin of devious charm, is still present, it's just that it's grown into something bigger, something deeper, more ambitious and unflinchingly honest. The genius of Drunk Tank Pink is how these lyrical themes dovetail with the music. Opener Alphabet dissects the premise of performance over a siren call of nervous, jerking guitars, its chorus thrown out like a beer bottle across a mosh pit. Songs spin off and lurch into unexpected directions throughout here, be it March Day's escalating aural panic attack or the shapeshifting darkness of Snow Day. There's a Berlin era Bowie beauty to the lovelorn Human For A Minute while closer Station Wagon weaves from a downbeat mooch into a souring, soullifting climax in which Steen elevates himself beyond the clouds and into the heavens. Or at least that's what it sounds like. From the womb to the clouds (sort of), Shame are currently very much in the pink.

Shame follow up their wildly acclaimed debut with a James Ford-produced peek into the riddled mind of the band's frontman, Charlie Steen. There are moments on Drunk Tank Pink where you almost have to reach for the sleeve to check this is the same band who made 2018's Songs Of Praise. Such is the jump Shame have made from the riotous post-punk of their debut to the sprawling adventurism and twitching anxieties laid out here. The South Londoner's blood and guts spirit, that wink and grin of devious charm, is still present, it's just that it's grown into something bigger, something deeper, more ambitious and unflinchingly honest. The genius of Drunk Tank Pink is how these lyrical themes dovetail with the music. Opener Alphabet dissects the premise of performance over a siren call of nervous, jerking guitars, its chorus thrown out like a beer bottle across a mosh pit. Songs spin off and lurch into unexpected directions throughout here, be it March Day's escalating aural panic attack or the shapeshifting darkness of Snow Day. There's a Berlin era Bowie beauty to the lovelorn Human For A Minute while closer Station Wagon weaves from a downbeat mooch into a souring, soullifting climax in which Steen elevates himself beyond the clouds and into the heavens. Or at least that's what it sounds like. From the womb to the clouds (sort of), Shame are currently very much in the pink.