Suche:mad voice

If it's really a post-genre world, why does everything sound the same? The two halves of Tampa rap duo They Hate Change_Dre (he/him) and Vonne (they/them)_first came together in front of the apartment complex where they both lived as teens. Dre had just moved down from Rochester, NY; Vonne was trying to sell him bad weed. It was clear from the start that the two listen to music differently from most people_they're sonic omnivores, obsessive deep-divers, lovers of rare and radical sounds. Starting as kids trawling the internet for tracks, they've been collecting music from around the world and across the decades, amassing a shared sonic knowledge so deep that "encyclopedic" barely begins to cover it _ not just the East Coast hip-hop that Dre grew up on, or the hyperlocal bass-music variants like jook (the Gulf Coast's twerkably raunchy answer to house) and crank (think "Miami bass meets NOLA bounce"), but also drum `n' bass, Chicago footwork, post-punk, prog (they're, like, seriously into prog), grime, krautrock, emo, and basically any genre on the map. Once they graduated to DJs on the Tampa DIY scene _ which includes everything from punk rock house parties to the black "teen nights" that pop up in rec centers and ballrooms _ they figured out how to pull all these disparate sounds together into a cohesive style. More importantly, they figured out how to make it something people will actually move to. When they made the transition to rapping and making beats, they brought that pleasure-seeking approach to sonic experimentation with them. "With this album, Vonne says, "it's really like, okay, you know how you talk about the internet breaking down borders? Here's what that actually sounds like. It's not just a hip-hop record with a couple more weird sounds. You want homegrown DIY? This is a record that was written, produced, and recorded in a 150-squarefoot bedroom from the least cool city you could think of." Finally, New is what a truly post-genre musical landscape is supposed to be: building deep connections that transcend outdated distinctions between them, spilling over with the joy of exploration and possibility, and daring other artists to think broader, go deeper, take bigger risks. Let the rest of them keep playing by the old rules_They Hate Change will keep changing the game.

Emanating from a ‘prehistoric’ existence near the end of the last millennium, Andy Votel and his slightly older college mates were once best recognised in Mancunian clubs and bars as teenage vinyl nerds and bum-fluffed battle rappers under the collective name Violators Of The English Language (which in acronymic form explains Andy’s own exotic pen-name).

As steadfast supporters of the 1980s / 90s Brit-core rap scene coming out of London, the multicultural Violators’ Mancunian accents were perhaps a bridge-too-far to secure dream job contracts for humble labels like Kold Sweat and Music Of Life. An unlikely constructive meeting with Gang Starr’s DJ Premier (while Andy helped out at a radio station), plus playing warm up DJ sets for countless US rap heroes might have temporarily added inspirational fuel to the fire, but after an active period combining graffiti, rapping, scratching, obsessive record digging and beat making into their daily operations, adulthood eventually began to rear its unwelcome head.

A decade later, Andy Votel and his digging skills would begin to provide direct sample material for the likes of Madlib, Mos Def, Jay Z, Nas, Dr Dre, Ghostface Killa and Action Bronson, amongst others, and the Violators’ black book of breakbeats and catalogue numbers soon began to feed a same-butdifferent rap beast.

For a project that has taken thirty years, it would be totally inadequate to call the formation of Hypocritical Beatdown Records a lockdown-project. There’s a deep history and psychology in these records by Violators Of The English Language and their spin-off groups Magnets (Rap Group) and ProVerbs, that combines stage-fright, loss, pride, creative-schizophrenia, racial inequality, surrealism, personal politics, brotherhood, artistic-constipation, better judgment, love, anti-love, soul searching and much more.

As well as Andy Votel taking care of both production and part of the microphone duties, some might recognise fellow MC and solo recording artist Figure Of Speech as a prominent voice here. The trio of Magnets (Rap Group) sees Andy also joined by local B-Girl legend Jeni Chan aka Penny Chew, and rapper and DJ Benjamin Hatton who has previously recorded with Kid Acne, The Mongrels and Sheffield’s Invisible Spies’ long-running squadron. Widely respected visual artist Rick Myers (now living in Massachusetts) also contributed scratches for many of these recordings via file sharing and custom dub-plates to keep the Violators’ authentic line-up intact, as well as galvanising the crew’s semi-reluctant art-school roots.

Extra production credits for the label also go to Sean Canty from Demdike Stare, and the late great Dan Dwayre aka Black Lodge (Mo Wax) who sadly passed away during the completion of these recordings. The members of Violators Of The English Language who you’ve not yet heard of will quickly make themselves known as the needle drops on this long-mooted debut vinyl release.

A new compilation titled Erased Tapes _+ù_¦ö, encompassing a two hour cross-section of the label"s 15-year history including hidden gems and previously unreleased material, will be available on November 4 to coincide with specially curated festivals in London and Berlin. The first offering comes from UK producer Kevin Richard Martin aka The Bug and Japanese voice artist Hatis Noit who share their paranormal first collaborative cut After the Storm amongst other unique pairings such as The Art Ensemble of Chicago featuring Moor Mother, Bell Orchestre interpreted by Colin Stetson, Douglas Dare joined by The London Contemporary Orchestra and Ben Lukas Boysen remixed by Kiasmos. Premiered exclusively via The Wire magazine in form of a free download ahead of their debut live performance at Le Guess Who? Festival 2019 in Utrecht, the track is now finally made available on vinyl and streaming platforms alongside other previously unreleased pieces from electronic producer Ryan Lee West aka Rival Consoles and Icelandic composer Högni. "As a solo vocalist and voice artist, I"d always dreamed of floating and being drowned in a beautiful sonic storm. And then I met Kevin Martin" - Hatis Noit The artwork is composed of the Japanese kanji for "15" - calligraphed by label founder Robert Raths and designed by Munich-based artist Bernd Kuchenbeiser.

On the album Opening, Tord Gustavsen reveals a fresh angle to his
particularly unique trio investigations into Scandinavian folk hymns,
gospel, chorale and jazz, as he introduces a different voice on bass
With a new fellow- traveller on board and its recording premiere in Lugano's
Auditorio Stelio Molo, the trio discovers inspired new ways to interact with each
other, using innovative approaches to sound and technique in the process. Made
up in equal parts of intricately textured improvisations and understated melodic
hooks, the group's conversations bring an enticing unfamiliarity to the language
the Norwegian pianist has developed over almost two decades of collaboration
with ECM.
Tord Gustavsen: piano, electronics
Steinar Raknes: double bass, electronics
Jarle Vespestad: drums
Press:
"Vibrates between the introspective and the dramatic in rich and singular ways.
Scene-setting opener 'The Circle' sees Gustavsen exploring a modal melodic line
of beguiling simplicity, with the trio's sotto voce approach creating an atmosphere
of hushed intimacy." - **** Jazzwise (Editor's Choice)
"The focus of Opening remains the playing from Gustavsen and the rich
accompaniment from his fellow musicians, creating an atmosphere perfect for a
walk by a cabin at dawn, with the sun peeking in through the trees." - Pitchfork
"Norwegian piano star Tord Gustavsen's long-honed recipe of low-key folk songs,
gospel, classical music and jazz gets a graceful makeover on Opening - with new
bassist Steinar Raknes, a player of uncannily responsive precision alongside
regular percussionist Jarle Vespestad, while subtle electronics sometimes create
ghostly horn-player effects." - The Guardian
"For Gustavsen, pieces such as Floytelat and Vaer Sterk, Min Sjel are routes into
the sort of cerebral mysteries that the former church pianist has made his own.
The first is a funereal theme where the notes he sprinkles like raindrops build into
a fatalistic flood. The second, from the Norwegian Hymnal, is played with an
innocent simplicity. Both are equally powerful...Remarkable music, Norwegian
blues." - The Times
"Quietly beguiling release...With lesser artists the uniformity of mood and
reluctance to turn up the volume would pall. But there's an artistry to Gustavsen's
compositions, a skill in their execution, and a warmth to their spirit that keeps the
listener engaged." - LondonJazz News

Over the better half of a decade, Time is Away, the London-based duo of Jack Rollo and Elaine Tierney, have made tender and heartfelt transmissions through countless mixes, sound works and radio. Exploring deeply human themes of memory, persistence and resistance using an assemblage of source material, the duo's unique mode of storytelling culminates in Ballads, a new suite of songs and, significantly, their first officially licensed compilation.

From the opening notes of Horvitz Morris Previte Trio's jazz romanticism to Gilles Chabenat and Frédéric Paris's lively reimagined standard, the haunting vocal seance of Tanto Pressanto and the mesmerising swirls of The Unthanks, Yuko Kono and Rachel Bonch-Bruevich, the spirit of Ballads roams through generations of affectionate songwriting and conjures images both candid and surreal. The voice of poet and longtime collaborator Christina Petrie appears briefly and contemplates the "sighs and replies… the space between verses" of the Ballad, its beauty, its place in our lives. What is the Ballad but a reflection of our soul? "Perhaps I'll wander in search of it", she bittersweetly concedes.

At the suite's cusp is an alternate version of David Lang's 'Just (After Song of Songs)', a thirteen-minute meditation on devotion which featured in Paolo Sorrentino's Youth (2015). The track's universal themes of faith and desire radiate throughout and elucidate Time is Away's peerlessly precise yet gossamer touch.

Felix Laband’s The Soft White Hand is the masterwork of an artist who expresses himself through musical and artistic collage acting together to reinterpret his sources and to express significant elements of his own personal story.

Released by Munich-based Compost Records, the 14-track album is Laband’s first full-length offering since the critically acclaimed Deaf Safari in 2015. It is heralded by the single “Derek and Me”, and is being pressed on vinyl for distribution globally.

In The Soft White Hand Laband works with source materials that will be familiar to those who know his previous four records – Thin Shoes in June (2001), 4/4 Down the Stairs (2002), Dark Days Exit (2005) and especially Deaf Safari which reached deep into the South Africa scene and its political culture to inspire its vocal and music sampling. However, the disengagement he felt from his homeland during his latest album’s creation – an abiding sense of untethered-ness to place and space, exquisitely rendered in tracks like “Death of a Migrant” – is perceptible in Laband’s desire to illuminate instead aspects of his own life.

“For this album, my source material became almost autobiographical as opposed to African statements I’ve worked with previously,” says the artist. “I have sampled a lot from documentaries from the 80s crack epidemic in impoverished African American communities and believe my work speaks unapologetically for the lost and marginalised, for those who are the forgotten casualties of the war on drugs. In the past, I have had my issues with substance abuse, and I know first-hand about the nightmares and fears, what it feels like to be isolated and abandoned.”

Few artists have managed to air these intimate aspects of their life so luminously as Laband does in tracks like “5 Seconds Ago”, “They Call Me Shorty” and in the strange and meditative “Dreams of Loneliness”. “I’ve been building this weird, autobiographical story using other people talking. It’s kind of humorous but it is also sad and beautiful,” says Laband.

Yet, as in all of Laband’s recorded output, the delineations between emotions are never starkly drawn and The Soft White Hand is also shot through with beauty. Nature appears in recordings made in his garden in the intimate early morning hours, whether as in the calls of the Hadada Ibis and other birdsong in “Prelude” or of the vertical-tail-cocking bird in “Derek and Me”. The last is a wonderful track with Derek Gripper, the South African experimental classical guitarist of international renown, whose 2020 song “Fanta and Felix” imagines a meeting between Fanta Sacko and Laband.

Laband’s eloquence in reinterpreting classical composers such as Beethoven in “We Know Major Tom’s a Junkie” is another thrilling aspect of the new record. “I’ve been properly exploring classical music on this album,” explains Laband, “taking melodies from classical compositions and reinterpreting them”. A fresh quality comes to his work through this sonic adventuring: the tender manipulation of the mundaneness of the computer’s AI voice to reimagine and reinvent iconic lyrics and melodies in strange and unexpected configurations.

The Soft White Hand is Laband’s most cohesive body of work to date. Yet it remains, in its sheer artistic scope, impossible to describe fully. Darkness abuts the gossamer light. A song that summons the sunrise and all the hope of a new day could also be about the final dipping down of the sun that portends a troubled night ahead. Interludes are invitations to expand outwards or shift inwards. Mistakes and “weird fuckups” in the sound are cherished as convincing statements against what Laband calls the “grossness” of perfect sound in modern music.

For this world-leading electronic artist, the boundaries are unfixed. He is inspired by the German Dada artist, Hannah Höch, who memorably declared: “I wish to blur the firm boundaries which we self-certain people tend to delineate around all we can achieve.” His music consequently reflects a primal artistic impulse that is also visible in Laband’s considerable visual art output as seen recently in several solo exhibitions such as that held in the No End Gallery in Johannesburg in 2019 and in the works he produced during his 2018 Nirox Foundation Artists Residency. “My music is always about collage, as is my art,’’ he affirms. “Everything I do is collage. It is a medium I find very interesting because you are taking history and distorting it and changing its meaning and turning it upside down and back to front.” In her book Recollections of My Non-Existence, Rebecca Solnit calls collage “literally a border art”; it is “an art of what happens when two things confront each other or spill onto each other”.

With The Soft White Hand, Laband is confirming his singular ability to achieve this in both art and music, melting the divisions between the two creative disciplines until they become one. He is also affirming his belief that an album of music should be more than a collection of unrelated tracks, but should unfold a fully integrated, cohesive story as in the song cycles of the great classical composers. In doing so, he claims his position as one of the most significant artists working today.

Artist Statement – Felix Laband – August 2022

When the Khmer Rouge took their captives for processing, they identified their class enemies by looking at their hands. If they were sunburned, rough and calloused, they were those of a peasant, a proletarian to be spared. But if they were soft and white, then they were those of a city-dweller, an intellectual or bourgeois, an adversary to be liquidated.

In calling this album The Soft White Hand, I was reflecting on the Cambodian genocide and how it resonates in contemporary South Africa. The apartheid era is over, and gone with it is white political domination. Yet economic and social privilege is still held in soft white hands. But those who grasp it know just how tenuous is their hold, how it singles them out, and my music reflects their subconscious fears, the stress and guilt of clinging on to what others envy and desire.

The soft white hand of the title suggests to me a further image, one that relates to all of postcolonial Africa. In my mind’s eye, I see the soft, duplicitous handshake of the smooth representatives of the superpowers making deals and promising gifts that benefit only them, and not their African dupes.
Yet, soaring above the wailing of sirens sampled from the first day of the invasion of Ukraine, my music is also about love gained and passion lost. It is about the tender caress of a soft white hand that conducts you into a place of dreams to be enfolded by nocturnal melodies.

In 'Christmas Morning', a song recorded for the 10th edition of the Snowflakes Christmas Singles Club, California folk singer Annie Jay remembers how special Christmas mornings were to her as a child. It was a magical moment. When she got older, the mystery of Christmas slowly disappeared. But not everything is gone. There is still the gathering together with loved ones every Christmas. And there are still children who wake up on Christmas morning and feel the same excitement that she felt when she once felt as a child. Annie Jay sings it all in a soft and sweet voice that is very easy to fall in love with and accompanies herself with the instrument that she fell in love with: the banjo. ‘Blue Christmas’, the song on the B-side of the single, has been covered by thousands of other artists since first recorded in the late 1940s and especially since Elvis Presley recorded it for his 1957 Christmas album. It only takes Annie Jay two minutes to make the standard hers - as if Billy Hayes and Jay W. Johnson wrote ‘Blue Christmas’ with her banjo and her vocal harmonies in mind.

Annie Jay lives in Upland, California and grew up with the music of Kenny Loggins, James Taylor, Carol King and Fleetwood Mac. After first teaching herself to play ukulele and guitar, her life changed when she discovered the banjo. It was then that she decided to follow the path of music. It brought her a BA of Arts in Music from the University of La Verne and it made her travel to Europe to play her music. Annie Jay formed the folk duo Your Companies and debuted in 2016 with the solo album 'Love Is All Around'. Earlier in 2022, she released the 6-song EP 'Time And Space' and a split 7" with California indie act Eatpianokeys, to which she contributed the beautiful song 'Talking To Plants'.

The ECM New Series debut of Evgueni Galperin is one of the most
strikingly original and evocative albums of the year
A composer of Russian and Ukrainian heritage, currently based in France,
Galperin is working with sound, texture and dynamics in new and powerfully
expressive ways. As he explains, the sound world of Theory of Becoming
represents an "augmented reality of acoustic instruments, created from
recordings made with real and virtual instruments. The numerous
transformations the instruments undergo allow me to capture their acoustic
nature while also adding techniques and colours impossible to produce in
reality..."
Galperin's compositions address wide ranging subjects: from the resilience of
hope in the face of destruction to meditations on the journey of the soul, as well
as travels through space and through the magical forests of Max Ernst's
paintings.
Theory of Becoming was recorded and mixed 2020-21 in Paris, at Studio EPG and
Studios de la Seine and was produced by Manfred Eicher.
Evgueni Galperine: composition
Maria Vasyukova: voice
Sergei Nakariakov: trumpet
Sebastien Hurtaud: cello

Miet, the solo project of musician Suzy LeVoid, was born out of a form of absolute urgency, to make music at all costs Self- taught, when she started playing bass in 2013, the desire to compose and perform on stage quickly led her to create this one-woman band, where the bass
and the voice are the foundations of a raw, sincere, skin-deep music.Only backed
by a looper, she writes and performs alone, and quickly made her way onto the
French stages, appearing alongside Jeanne Added or Shannon Wright.
Although she's always alone on stage or in the studio, Miet expresses how much
the discovery of otherness nourishes her creation, to the point of having chosen
for this second album, still in English, a title in German 'Auslander'. For the
Nantes-based singer, this term means the magic of an unexplained but familiar
word. This "foreigner", or more exactly this "other", seems to take on the
appearance of a character that we learn to discover throughout the ten tracks of
the album.
Suzy LeVoid's newest offering is full of her unique signature sound : abrasive
rock, a deeply personal blend of sound loops, hypnotic rhythms and powerful
distorted bass lines. Strongly inspired by the work of Walt Whitman, Miet, like the
American poet, subtly uses repetition to give a hypnotic character to her lyrics.
This feeling of hypnosis is largely accentuated by the sequence of sound loops,
creating a perception of an infinite cycle and thus giving birth to an almost
mystical atmosphere.

"WARKINGS Warriors beware, the mighty warriors are back with an unexpected ally – none other than the legendary Sorceress Morgana le Fay! The sister of Arthur and mistress of the lost souls has joined the four kings on the fourth chapter of the WARKINGS saga, Morgana, to be unleashed on November 11, 2022 via Napalm Records! Forging their musical steel in the tradition of Powerwolf, Sabaton, HammerFall and Running Wild, the WARKINGS burst onto the battlefields in 2018. They gathered their Warriors around the world and entered the Official German Album Charts 2021 at #13 with Revolution. Gathered in the golden halls of Valhalla, the four ancient kings – a roman Tribune, a wild Viking, a noble Crusader and a martial Spartan – are now back with Morgana, having already escaped from the underworld, fought the Monarchs of the dusk and called for Revolution. Back in the realms of the dead, they were captivated by the eerie and extraordinary chanting voice of “evil” sorceress Morgana La Fey. Obsessed with the idea of telling humanity her own version of her story, the witch inspired the WARKINGS to include Morgana in their circle as they fought their next battles – a covenant made for eternity! In their trademark manner, the WARKINGS – armed with weapons made of pure Heavy Metal – tell their stories in songs forged of pure steel. Morgana's haunting voice rises to tell her story in four acts: The first chapter ""Hellfire"", tells of her love-hate relationship with King Arthur, ""Monsters"" of the dark side in each of us, and ""Heart of Rage"" of her desire to grant forgiveness to all who have hurt her, before revealing in ""Immortal"" how she and Arthur's immortal souls are reborn again and again. In the last two chapters of the battle, Arthur himself speaks out and implores Morgana not to give up, before he himself narrates the Arthurian saga in the crowning finale! Of course, the WARKINGS themselves raise their voices to tell their stories – recounting their battles with Hereward the Wake, the naval battle of Salamis and a man unjustly enslaved. As a special gift, the WARKINGS offer “To The King” – a hymn in honor of the most loyal of the faithful WARKINGS Warriors, who stand side by side with the mighty kings in all battles! Raise your swords and join the next fight in the WARKINGS saga with Morgana!"

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.”

"Most of this record was created in the shadow of COVID and deep in the maw of Melbourne’s 2020 long winter lockdown. It is a meditation on the nature of connection.

Restricted to a 5km zone, one of the only people I saw outside my family during this time was my old friend and teacher, Ania Walwicz. We met in the overlap between our zones on the waterfront near Docklands to walk and talk on bright, cool winter afternoons. Those conversations became large in my thoughts when Ania suddenly passed away in September. Her voice was in my head as I worked on this music, trawling through threads of ideas, recordings made on my phone, and thoughts jotted down in notebooks.

Ania’s practice as a writer relied on ‘automatic’ processes. Her work was informed by everything she had read (a lot) but it was created in the manner of dreams. In a state where the subconscious might bubble up and the words arrange themselves into meaning bearing forms that resonate more than represent. I thought a lot about that as I made this music. I recorded everyday using the trumpet, my old Revox reel-to-reel, a couple of synths, a harmonium I lent from a friend, and whatever else was around. I worked mostly on just diving a little deeper each time I sat down to it.

Through the simple process of exhalation, I explored my relationship with the trumpet, which has been through so many twists and turns. I let the tones produced by my breath unfurl on long tape loops and degrade beyond recognition through pedal and plugin chains, until the only imprint of the initial gesture remained.

My process also involved long bike rides during which I’d listen to the work of previous days on ear buds, gliding through familiar streets made slightly strange by the absence of people and movement. Often my rides took me along Footscray Rd next to the port, and as I washed down towards Docklands past the old boat moorings I stopped pedalling to coast. The sounds from my darkened studio mingled with the low rush of air past my helmet, the click and whirr of my bike gears, a squalling bird, a whooshing car. And I remembered my last conversation with Ania. Sitting in the late afternoon sun, squinting against the light that raked across the water, she was telling me about all the different words for they have for blue in Polish and Russian, and how words don’t just change our perception of things, but also actually change the thing being perceived.

As I rode home that afternoon, I felt like anything was possible. "

Peter Knight

Over the past decade, Vienna-based Florian Stöffelbauer – also known as Heap, has built a consistent reputation as a skilled DJ, producer and Neubau’s label head.

Isla is proud to present his latest effort “False Hope” which explores the intersections between industrial, electro and dark wave – all with a leftfield twist.

As diverse as it is powerful, the 7 tracks featured here almost feel like nocturnal tales, chalking out Heap’s observations wandering through the streets of a silent city, with cigarette smoke permeating the air and sirens ringing in the distance.
The cinematic essence of the release emerges from the very beginning, with the atmospheric beauty “Diall” transporting us straight into some late-80s scenery of Kraftwerkian nostalgia. In “Jetzt Oder Nie” a sharp knit of drums is placed on top of the grave frequencies of the bass: it’s indeed “now or never”, the moral imperative of the release, requiring us to take action.
Throughout the whole album, hypnotic sounds punctuate the dark space, bouncing between the polyrhythmic and uplifting energies of “Inner peace” and “No Palm Too Big”, a sneaky slow-burner with a nocturnal groove and Gayna Rose Madder’s robotic voice reciting the stream of consciousness of this urban wanderer.

“Trist” rises slowly yet powerfully thanks to its mystical synths covering the ground and preparing us for what comes next.
The title track “False Hope” holds the unique charm of a creature effortlessly floating in between dualities. As obscure as it is airy, as delicate as it is forceful, this hybrid composition is rich in details and plot twists.

At the end of this journey, “Losing time” reminds us of the urgency to take action expressed at the beginning of the album. In a rarefied canvas, an off-kilter solitary sound comes in, starting off as insistent as a car horn in rush hour, and evolving into a beautiful instrument arpeggiating the melody.

Here Heap concludes his narrative for now. We like to imagine him walking away, a shadow fading in the smoke of the city as the first lights of the day appear.

dreamcastmoe is the recording project of singer, songwriter, producer, and DJ Davon Bryant, a lifelong resident of Washington, DC. His music moves freely between moods and modes, hypnotic, romantic, traversing electronic, R&B, funk, soul, and hip-hop... Resident Advisor dubs it "soulful, cross-genre dance music." This ability to adapt and finesse, to twist in different directions while staying true and coherent in vision, can be traced to his home city and its complex cultural history. "Most Black kids in DC don't ever get to this point," he says. "This is what I am making this music for, in the DC tradition of soul and empathy and love that is rooted in this city. My music is for real people dealing with shit every day." A versatile, modern artist and collaborator, dreamcastmoe has thrived in the underground since his first uploads to Soundcloud and Bandcamp in 2017 and subsequent releases with labels like People's Potential Unlimited, Trading Places, and In Real Life Music. Bryant's laid-back personality, emotional honesty, and infectious energy shine through his work and how he talks about it, as Crack Magazine notes in their 2021 Rising feature: "a steady combination of confidence, creativity, and calmness." He grew up playing drums in church; he's worked dead-end jobs, had ups and downs, even sold off all his gear one time, but never stopped reinvesting in himself. He is quick to praise his co-producers, rattle off influences _ the visual feel of NBA 2K, the comedic timing of Bernie Mac, the savvy legacy of Duke Ellington, for starters _ and credit resourceful DC breakouts like Ankhlejohn that showed him the roadmap. His voice, a steady instrument, seemingly connects it all, capable of slow falsetto flow, swaggering talk-rap, and outright croon. His storytelling style is choppy yet fluid, like a mixtape, which is how Bryant sees Sound Is Like Water, his debut on Ghostly's International's freeform label, Spectral Sound. The two-part project culminates as a full-length LP release in November 2022. The first side, released as Part I, opens on the blurred beats of "El Dorado," which dreamcastmoe dedicates to his journey. It's a head-nodder, an off-kilter earworm co-produced by Max D (Future Times, RVNG Intl, etc.), with Bryant harmonizing hooks with synth jabs and a pitched-down presence. "Complicated" is the slow jam, delivered smoothly from a Saturday night crossroads. dreamcastmoe is contemplative and committed... gliding and locking ad-libs into skittering rhythms courtesy of co-producer Zackary Dawson _ but also willing to let something go, "acknowledging that everything in life IS NOT easy." "RU Ready" takes off from the jump as a tribute, challenge, and promise to his partner and his city ("The times you sat with me when I needed you the most / Told me the things that I needed to see / Young black man, really trying to be what I can be / And I'm really from DC). In its potent two-plus minutes, the sonics (co-produced by ZDBT) press the message, all cymbal crashes, breakbeats, and serrated synth lines. "Cloudy Weather, Wear Boots" is a blitzing dance-punk track made in collaboration with Jordan GCZ on Bryant's first trip to Amsterdam. The album's flipside opens on "Much More," the first of two synth-and-beat ballads co-produced by ZDBT. Later on "Long Songz," he claims, "I'm not writing love songs no more," prioritizing the vibe with "all my day ones." He calls it "a cry for more normal moments. Everything doesn't have to be a fantasy love story, more time spent getting to the money, growing, and making a way." He saves two of his most propulsive cuts for the finale, co-produced by Sami, co-founder of DC dance label 1432 R. As their titles suggest, "Take A Moment" and "Make Ya Mind" operate as anthems for movement, with Bryant free-flowing commands above wildly-styled percussion. Per Bryant, the latter is both "wake & bake jam" and a "dance floor bomb." His parting line: "Action / You got to show me action / Reaction." The world of dreamcastmoe straddles virtual reality and the realness of DC, images both imagined and lived-in. Bryant has a knack for unexpected melodies but what makes his music so exciting is his capacity to defy the expectations of genre and image. A fluid ingenuity and vulnerability bottled by Sound Is Like Water, and this is just the beginning.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Uri Katzenstein’s Audio Works, produced in collaboration with Holon’s Centre for Digital Art. Spanning sculptural installation, performance, video art, and many other media, Katzenstein’s absurdist, poetic, and often hilarious work made extensive use of sound and music. This, however, is the first release dedicated to the artist’s audio work, collecting 28 tracks produced between the early 1980s and 2017. Compiled from dozens of hours of recordings left uncatalogued (and in some instances unheard) at the artist’s death in 2018, these four sides are a treasure trove, offering a captivating glimpse into a uniquely uninhibited creative practice. Predominantly recorded alone, with some contributions from regular collaborators such as Ohad Fishof on the later pieces, many of these tracks stem from Katzenstein’s time living in New York in the 1980s. Feeding on the cross-pollination of post-punk energy, radical art practice, and new media possibilities that characterised the New York scene at this time, many of Katzenstein’s recordings squeeze multilayered vocal experimentation into synth-based miniatures with a distinctively pop twist, their forms ruptured with anarchic bursts of free-form electronics, sounds from self-built instruments, and field-recorded snatches of the outside world. Katzenstein’s electronic production calls up touchstones of skewed 80s art pop like Laurie Anderson, Ambitious Lovers, and Scritti Politti, but imbued with DIY directness and economy of means. The arrangements of synths, percussion, and noise elements are invigoratingly raw and, at times, almost austerely minimal. On ‘Intermission’, thick distorted chords accompany a wandering portamento melody, inhabiting the wayward carnival space of Roedelius’ most unhinged efforts. Many of the tracks centre on Katzenstein’s multi-tracked vocal performances, often moving between multiple languages, (most commonly English, German, French, and Hebrew). A bewildering range of vocal approaches are present on these pieces, from sweet wordless harmonies to hammed-up growls and monastic recitations. On ‘Skin O. Daayba – Complex Habits no. 3’, improvised resonance singing against a backdrop of echoing electronics and radio snatches. ‘Half Monk Half Herring’ layers multi-lingual syllabic fragments, crossing sound poetry techniques with melodic invention in a way rarely heard outside of Caetano Veloso’s Araçá Azul. On ‘Attempt to Raise Hell’, Katzenstein’s distorted voice spits out streams of alliterative nonsense (‘the hemlock of Henry, he was a hermit…purple pumpkin pulsates to pops’), while on the hilarious ‘Eric’, Katzenstein appears to instruct a small boy simultaneously in basic French and German conversation. On ‘Chicken’, vocal harmonies accompany the pecking and clucking of the titular fowl. Moving from bent, outsider synth pop to snatches of Jo Jones-esque automated instrumental clang and absurdist linguistic experiments, these are far more than footnotes to an artist’s gallery works. Accompanied by extensive, beautifully written liner notes by Roee Rosen and the little information that exists on the individual tracks, Katzenstein’s Audio Works inhabits an outer fringe of DIY pop and sonic experiment reminiscent of Pascal Comelade or Die Welttraumforscher, where accessible forms convey radical interrogations of song, word, and sound.

Singer/songwriter, violinist, and producer hunter Maya Killtron releases her sophomore album, Persimmon. A mix of modern boogie, funk, string quartet and yacht rock, the record is a definitive coming–of-a-certain-age for the Toronto native. The eclectic feel-good record came as a result of our collective pandemic upheaval. Tracks “Out Of My Life” and “Do It Again” that were created alongside producer HiFiLo, highlight the frustration with the status quo and a need to break the mold. Killtron keeps to her modern boogie roots with “Night Moves”—a glossy roller-worthy track made with long time collaborator Gil Masuda of Toronto’s Love Touch Records. She simultaneously evolves and returns to her roots as a classically trained violinist and arranger in her self produced track, Persimmon, which features her string quartet, Bowed Arts. Rounding out the record is “Guaranteed,” a co-produced track with UK’s Format-440 and also her tribute to “Reading Rainbow” through the lens of Ryan Farley’s Phil Collins-esque production in Del Rey. With Persimmon, Maya is solidifying her place as an established voice in modern boogie while breaking into new mainstream markets worldwide.

Rare Italo disco pop project Galvanica gets a beautiful re-issue! This is what the label writes about the release; "Galvanica, a voice with unusual qualities, refined, balanced, also high-pitched, sensual, embellished by an orgasmic inspiration with fluid and spaced solo's in hypnotic rhythms that often change scenery. 'Nightlights in Japan': an extraordinary piece of pure and profound creativity where each version seems to have been built apart and where the West meets the East. A splendid interpreter for a truly stunning piece, as fresh and far-sighted as the day it was recorded in Calenzano at Studio Emme by Marzio Benelli with the Yamaha DX7 synth and Linn 9000 drum sequencer that are at the base of the piece, made and re-interpreted in the four original versions, all sung in the Eastern Asian pentatonic scale. 'Nightlights in Japan' was also written by Massimiliano Orfei, at the time collaborator in the advertising projects from label Smash One Music of Pino Toma, the producer who drew new inspiration to venture into the record market which in 1987 became every day more difficult and this song was considered out of fashion, even if each version of this song was expertly arranged by the talented Giorgio Costantini. We've clarified as to whom Galvanica's velopendulus belongs, in order to be able to rightly consider this artist as a contributive voice of disco music, despite being part of the "second wave" of the Italo-Disco scene, has strongly contributed to it as Otero, Belen Thomas, Angelby and previously with the disco-project Plustwo creating 'Melody' (which after 40 years gets a new extraordinary success with over 134 million plays on TikTok and around 18 million streaming). However, it's clear as day that the gorgeous artist behind Galvanica was Antonella Bianchi and that Giorgio Costantini was not only her producer and composer - as in 1985 for 'I Know', a sweet synth-pop ballad sung with her stage name 'Angel', but above all her ... 'guardian angel'. For many artists using a stage name is a custom. The absolute record of pseudonyms as a true equalizer of identity is held by Stendhal having used 350 throughout his career. This multifaceted artist who, until now has never used so many 'a.k.a.', in a wonderful game of musical mirrors, has represented an opportunity to challenge the market, a trait of non-acceptance of the role that the discography attributes to certain artists. So also Galvanica was an invitation to reflect, with a pinch of provocation, a behavior that Antonella Bianchi has in the DNA of her family. Ultimately, Best Record is not at all worried about the modernization that surrounds it, sure that 'Nightlights in Japan' will be one of the most coveted vinyl reissues in the second half of 2022.

Italian sound artist GIULIO ALDINUCCI returns with his 4th album on KARL: "Real" is again a truly masterfully composed and sound-designed ambient masterpiece and a more than worthy follow-up to the critically acclaimed "Borders And Ruins" (2017), "Disappearing In A Mirror" (2018) and "Shards Of Distant Times" which all made it onto several year's best lists.

With now his 4thalbum for Karl, the sound artist from Siena / IT has proved a steady and prolific artist on the label roster. And each time, GIULIO ALDINUCCI delivers a new ambient masterpiece that clearly carries his signature as composer / producer and yet reveals a slightly different approach to his modus operandi. ALDINUCCI's massive layers of sound, built from field recordings and an array of electronic gear, blend droney ambient with heavenly voices / sacred music that create an atmosphere of a consolatory melancholy – alien, but with a graspable presence of human souls. And each album deals with a topic that ALDINUCCI came across in his observations of and reflections about today's society.

In the words of GIULIO himself:

"The digital media we live with shape and define reality by filtering it, letting us run the risk of living without our personal and unique one. My new album expresses a need of something unmediated and authentic. "Real" is a reflection on the endless possibility of sonic transformation, the ability we have to create new realities transmuting the soundscape around us and the inner soundscape inside us, even only by imagining it. A (deep)real experience permeated by dreamy lyricism."

Deron Miller gives his life to the riff. Unrestrained by industry expectations and genre limitations, the boundlessly prolific guitarist and voice behind multiple beloved projects is best known as the founder, frontman, and songwriter in CKY. His authentic and effortlessly hooky heavy rock obsession returns with 96 BITTER BEINGS. Reinvigorated and ready to rumble all over again, Miller roars back with the same reverence for riffage that made underground hits out of CKY anthems like “Flesh Into Gear,” “Escape from Hellview,” and “Disengage the Simulator” from 1998 till 2011.

The familiar warmth, feel, groove, and unapologetic honesty which drove the song “96 Quite Bitter Beings” to 54 million streams (on Spotify alone) permeates the pair of albums unleashed by 96BB.

A successful crowdfunding campaign saw Miller, guitarist Kenneth Hunter, bassist Shaun Luera and Shaun’s brother, drummer Tim, conjure up 2018’s Camp Pain in limited release. North American and European touring followed, wrapping up shortly before the COVID-19 shutdowns.

“After CKY and a short break, I decided to continue, without changing the sound,” Miller explains. “Because that’s what I do. It’s what I love to do and what people say I do well. All of the guys who got in the band with me are great musicians. And each of them is hungry. They have priorities and ambitions about being in a rock band, no matter the grim state of pop music out there. If we can bring rock and metal back to the mainstream, in some way, that’s the dream.”

In 2022, 96 BITTER BEINGS unleash the long-awaited Synergy Restored, 11 songs of relentless power and vibe. Four-on-the-floor, fuzzy and visceral, proper rock n’ roll made by an actual band, rather than a bunch of overprocessed samples and otherwise stale shenanigans. Songs like “Vaudeville’s Revenge,” “90 Car Pile-Up,” and “Wish Me Dead” offer vivid reminders of the truth-telling prowess of guitars, bass, and drums. Miller is on fire, weaponizing the same knack for memorable musical epiphanies behind projects like Foreign Objects, World Under Blood, and CKY.
Miller co-founded Foreign Objects and later Camp Kill Yourself (a name born of his love of VHS slasher classics) in West Chester, Pennsylvania, in the ‘90s. Written by Miller, 1999’s Volume 1 appealed to metalheads, skaters, stoners, and punks. The album led to a stint on Warped Tour and a deal with Island Def Jam Music Group, which issued Infiltrate•Destroy•Rebuild• in 2002. Axl Rose chose CKY to support the ill-fated Chinese Democracy tour, and they also played with Metallica.
An Answer Can Be Found followed in 2005, producing the Billboard Mainstream Rock Top 40 single “Familiar Realm.” Extensive touring with Avenged Sevenfold and the like-minded Clutch followed. Carver City, in 2009, would prove to be Miller’s last album with the group he created and led. Across the four albums, Miller indulged his love of everything from ‘80s thrash metal to doom, as CKY blended high-octane ruckus with occasional bursts of Moog synths and cinematic storytelling.
Miller never stopped creating, with a handful of full albums written and released, a foray into horror movies, and parenting three children with his wife, scream queen actress Felissa Rose. Like Galactic Prey, the most recent Foreign Objects album, the 96BB records were recorded and produced by Miller and Hunter at Manifest Productions. Camp Pain was explicitly made for diehard fans who supported the creation of both albums through 96BB’s Indiegogo campaign. Synergy Restored was always intended for wider release, which it sees now via Nuclear Blast.
“I want my work taken seriously. I thank God every day that I was never overexposed, or even exposed enough commercially, to where I’m resigned to a specific moment,” Miller says. “I would rather have my self-respect, the respect of the audience, and a dedicated cult following.”

“Every time I go out, I see Nirvana, Metallica, and Misfits t-shirts. These kids may not know the music, but at least they are displaying a visual interest,” he adds. “Corporations spend millions of dollars promoting certain styles of music, but history proves that true rock will always sneak in.”

Emerging from a live recording at St.Mary's Episcopal Cathedral in 2021, Alliyah Enyo’s ‘Echo’s Disintegration’ is a transformational project; a coded reflection on loss, metamorphosis and rebirth.

It’s a work of two parts, each incarnation informed by the parameters of the recording environment. In the initial live performance, Alliyah harnesses the organic echo and reverb formed by the vast open space of the cathedral. Her luminous vocals break through a dense sea of layered noise, a reverberating wailing drenched in heartache.

Her words are fractured and frayed, broken into segments, and enshrouded in mysticism. Yet through the ambiguity, there’s an innate spirituality to the work; iridescent melodies are heightened by the imposing presence of the surroundings.

The five studio tracks, made in retrospect, carry the live performance within the DNA of their reinterpreted sounds and loops. Recorded in Glasgow’s renowned Green Door Studio, constructed reel-to-reel tape loops further fragment and transform compositions, evoking the intoxicating tape feedback of Eliane Raidgue and the harrowing loops of William Basinski.

There’s a radiant clarity to the recordings, Alliyah’s voice implemented as the guiding instrument, the heady sensuality of her vocals layered and echoed in enchanting formation. Through the agony and longing, we reach reincarnation in the culminating euphoria of ‘the healer’. We’re left amongst the blissful reverberations of an awakened soul.

Echo’s Disintegration is the debut album by Alliyah Enyo. The work has received early support from Jack Rollo (NTS), Lucinda Chua (NTS), Pako Vega (Fade Radio, Athens), Elina Tapio (Radio Radio, Amsterdam), Conna Harrawy (INDEX:records) and Martyna Basta (Unsound festival).


Alliyah Enyo - Bio
Alliyah Enyo is an Edinburgh-based artist. She comes from a visual-arts background which is evident in her theatrical live performances that encompass elaborate stage design and choreographed dance. She recently performed her 9-month collaborative project ‘Selkie Reflections’ for Hidden Door festival, working with dancers and classical musicians to explore Siren and Selkie myth. She has performed at multiple venues across Scotland and previously supported Erika De Casier.


Somewhere Between Tapes - Bio
Somewhere Between Tapes is a Glasgow-based record label, formed in 2022 via connections made at local community radio station Clyde Built Radio and at Green Door Studio’s sound workshop.

The label is primarily drawn to working with artists who use experimental processes, often as part of an interdisciplinary practice, where live performance and visual accompaniments are intrinsic to the work. Our focus is on diaristic, sensitive approaches to sound, from ethereal ambient to avant-folk and psychedelic-infused electronics.

The label is run by Lizzie Urquhart and Tim Dalzell. Both are residents at Clyde Built and have contributed to Mutant Radio, Refuge Worldwide, Lyl Radio and Rinse FM. Collaboratively and independently their shows are characterized by their reflective nature, designed for deep listening. This is supplemented by their online mix series ‘Somewhere’, and involvement in co:clear; a new collaborative listening series formed with Conna Haraway of INDEX:Records that commenced with a performance by Berlin-based artist Perila.

New solo album from Seth Avett of the Avett Brothers (his first in 5 years), featuring songs written by lauded folk singer Greg Brown, whose songs have also been performed and recorded by Joan Baez, Willie Nelson, Lucinda Williams, Carlos Santana, Ani DiFranco, Gillian Welch, Mary Chapin Carpenter, and more. For those who may need reminding, Greg Brown is the ultimate songwriter's songwriter. Over a forty-plus-year career, he's occupied the same rarefied air as Loudon Wainwright III and John Prine - a keen-eyed poet and diarist of the human condition. And he's done it mostly on his own. “This is a man who put forty records out because he had to,” Avett says. “He made his own record label. He played the coffee shops, the bars, the little theaters. He built it. He's a world-class artist who did it all under the radar, which is just mind-blowing to me.” As Avett's new solo record makes clear, this collection is an expression of admiration and gratitude for one of his heroes. But it's also a reflection of his own artistry and ability as an interpreter. Though Brown's songs have been a part of his listening diet for decades, Avett gained a more profound appreciation once he put his own voice behind them. And though on the surface it's a covers record, it dovetails seamlessly with the most recent Avett Brothers album The Third Gleam and Seth's solo outing IV, which find him in equally stripped-down settings exploring the light and shadows of his own personal stories.

By freeing himself from the labels that have made D.L.i.d.'s career, Casini turns to more pointed and experimental sounds, he is now part of a purely electronic current, at the electronic current, at the crossroads of the influences that have forged his unique musical identity. For this adventure, the objective is simple: to let the creativity of its author take him to where he where he wishes it. From Trap to house through more hybrid styles, he lays his deep and catchy voice on 6 tracks that will be unveiled one after the other in the heart of an evolving EP.

Italo-House classic “Tumbe” released in 1992 on Irma Records with Murk edits is here again with new fresh remixes.
Cesare Collina aka Tito Valdez and Umberto Damiani join forces 30 years ago to make “The big nowhere” version; with percussions played by Cesare, tropical voices and trancy pads.

On the remixes duties we have legendary Riviera hero Ricky Montanari, Dirty grooves master LTJ and the young House head Hill.
Ricky found an unreleased remix jam of “Tumbe” he did in the 90s with his classic Riviera Traxx groove which doesn’t need any presentation.

LTJ made a slow version with his unique beat, accompanied by atmospheric pads, lovely electric guitar riff and classic Rhodes.
Hill made a Paradise mix with dreamy Pianos, funky bassline and old school strings which goes to close this record in the best way.

Promise & Illusion is the first LP from Ecka Mordecai, following the release of her solo Critique + Prosper on Takuroku in 2020. Cello, voice, horsehair harp, violin and field recordings combine to spin narrative melody, rich intimacy and melancholic landscapes. Composed around an exploration of la charnière (from the French ‘hinge’), Promise & Illusion begins with the sound of footsteps and a door opening and closing repeatedly, unsure whether to let us into the mysterious interior beyond. We are reminded of the house of Penny Slinger in An Exorcism, an abandoned mansion of gothic hallways and inky corridors. “woe are we” twists violin and voice together into the sort of tension and high drama heard in “The Executioner” - Henning Christiansen’s soundtracks made for the films of his partner Ursula Reuter Christiansen in the 1970’s. Then things begin to soften, almost despite themselves. Distortion on ‘a unit has no unity’ can’t quite smother a rising tune on warped harp. The cello on ‘indigos’ - its voice pizzicato with a velvety sustain - brings comfort and clarity. Mordecai hums a line, feeling out the edges of a song in an intimate release of tension. We are across the threshold - into a romantic sort of nocturnal gloom that feels somewhat out of place in London’s experimental music scene. Trained on viola da gamba as part of a renaissance youth group in the historic midland town of Stafford, Mordecai went on to study performance art in Brighton, later graduating in sound art in London. She performed with David Toop and Rie Nakajima as part of Allan Kaprow’s Yard at the Hepworth Gallery, as well as performing scores by Yoko Ono and George Brecht solo at White Cube Gallery as part of Christian Marclay’s Liquids exhibition. Later, various moves across the north of England found her working with Andrew Chalk and Tom James Scott (forming the trio CIRCÆA), Miles Whittaker (of Demdike Stare) and performing alongside free improvisers. A myriad of influences have crossed her path, her work slowly taking shape across music concrète, improvisation and performance art. A more recent recording with Valerio Tricoli as ‘Mordecoli’ made during the development of Promise & Illusion found its final form as a cassette - a collage of sustained tones, ominous atmospheres and brief 4th wall dissolving vocal interaction. With both CIRCÆA and Mordecoli, Mordecai deals with landscapes - playing with the imaginary over the real and using improvisation as a useful way to dream. On Promise & Illusion, Mordecai sharpens her focus and pivots toward the interior over the exterior - the landscape becoming a personal, psychological one - both comforting and strange. Tracks 4, 5, 7 & 10 recorded and mixed by Adam Matschulat in December 2020. All others recorded and mixed by Ecka Mordecai. Mastered by Shaun Crook at Lockdown Studios, London. Artwork by Ecka Mordecai. Layout by Zofia Sobota.

Track list: 1 la charnière I 2 woe are we 3 a unit has no unity 4 indigos 5 study of a flame 6 la charnière II 7 promise & illusion 8 hush now you say 9 tempera 10 mistakes & continue

Opaque pink vinyl LP. For fans of: Tirzah, Caroline Polachek, Erika de Casier, Oklou, Smerz. Between the ages of 2 and 18, Cora Gilroy-Ware lived in a haunted place. On the outside, this small edge of Connecticut coastline was a quintessential New England town. Yet beneath its quaint surface was a netherworld that got steadily darker over the course of those sixteen years. From a serious drug problem to environmental pollution leading to deadly illnesses, frequent suicides and an above average number of fatal accidents, something about this place was cursed. Amid this world Cora was an outsider, someone who preferred pop and RnB to the music of her peers, who mostly subscribed to the dregs of a Deadhead culture that was more nihilistic than utopian. Still, she found herself on weekends drinking in the woods with the rest of them, playing along until it was time to leave. Christmas breaks and summer months were spent across the Atlantic in a completely antithetical environment. In London, the city of her birth, Cora spent her teen years taking the bus home at dawn after raves under the railroad arches, or riding the tube to her cousin’s house in Camden. For a long time, Cora’s life was composed of these two strands—ghostly East Coast suburbia and inner-city London—which she was forced to fold in and out of one another like a two-strand French braid. She quickly learned to adapt and be whoever the particular moment demanded. Her outsider status was intensified by the fact that, being of mixed Afro-Caribbean and European descent, her family didn’t look like the others in Connecticut. In the 2000s, this meant Cora had to contend with a deeply ingrained kind of folk-racism, both conscious and unconsciously expressed. Nobody talked about these things back then, and she internalized a lot of shame. The ability to shape-shift became integral to Cora’s artistic practice. Her survival mechanism at school was to carve out her own worlds through visual art and dance. Music was less of a creative outlet than a way of life, something like a form of religion for her family, who all played instruments and saw music as the form to which all art aspires. She studied violin and learned enough guitar chords to write her first songs. Cora always wanted to be a performer, but, having moved around constantly, craved stability and independence. Eager to make her own way in the world, she began to write about painting and sculpture, which eventually led to time spent working in Naples, Italy and a day job teaching the History of Art at university level. It wasn’t until 2018 that Cora first shared her first songs with the wider world. Having collaborated and played live with Jam City (Jack Latham, who has co-produced each of her releases), she finally embarked on a solo career, which for her felt inevitable, only a matter of time. Following four acclaimed EPs—Toxic Femininity (2018), Lashes in a Landfill (2019), Dreamcatcher (2020) and Maiden No More (2021), this year will see the release of her debut album The Golden Ass. For her artist name she chose, “Fauness”: a play on the Latin faunus, a woodland god with the body of a man and the horns, ears, and legs of a goat. The feminine equivalent—fauness—is a modern invention, made up by rococo sculptors in 18th century France. Cora was drawn to this pseudonym because of its temporal layers and amalgamation of beauty and beast, which, for her, captures something of her complex personal story. an utterly individual voice in underground pop music" - The FADER // "a sparkling sweet pop ride" – NYLON // “It is hard to write a perfect pop song. It’s even harder to make it look as easy as London artist Fauness” - GUARDIAN GUIDE // Tracks 01. Lonely 02. Mystery 03. Peaches 04. Hours 05. Siena 06. Grape & Grain 07. Laura 08. High 09. Cinnamon 10. Girl In The Moon

LP is on baby blue vinyl in a jacket w/ spot gloss + printed inner sleeve + LP3 album download. On October 21, 2022, Merge Records will release Pigments, the debut collaboration between New Orleans electro-revival dynamo Dawn Richard and multi-instrumentalist, producer, and composer Spencer Zahn. Pigments is a project about the power of self-expression through living art, through motion. It’s also a love letter to New Orleans, Louisiana. Not strictly classical, jazz or ambient electronica but rather a body of “movements,” Pigments is an expressive soundscape that is an immersive passage through the city as seen through the eyes of a young Black girl with dreams to paint her future with the pigments given to her. Richard explains: “Spencer wanted to create one long piece of music that would ebb and flow around my lyrics and emotions, which tell a story of growing to love my own skin. I wanted my voice to be moss surrounding the roots of Spencer’s compositions, never forcing the moment to fill every space but rather reveling in the openness of thought and breath.” Zahn agrees, saying, “I wanted to work with all these different textures, tones, and colors to have a new sound to frame Dawn’s voice and lyrics. To hear a lone clarinet as the breath fades and a cello continues its melody to cue Dawn’s vocal entrance is unlike any other record she has made. These are things that excite me as a composer but more as a listener. I hope that other listeners feel the same.” Coming on the heels of Dawn Richard’s critically acclaimed Merge debut Second Line, Pigments will introduce listeners to a different facet of Richard’s outrageous talent and bring Zahn’s thoughtful creativity to a new audience

Gelb's semi-surreal observations lace things together perfectly.” UNCUT. Filled with loud and lucky abandon; heady steady and direct singalongs for the heart in constant turmoil. Giant Sand’s esoteric journey to ‘Heartbreak Pass’ is an exotic journey through hails of Youngian guitars, off-the-cuff jazz piano rounds and beautiful alt-country yearning. While containing only new songs for this album, this feels like a greatest hits and as such is a perfect entry point for Giant Sand neophytes. Fire Records give ‘Heartbreak Pass’ a long overdue repress on white vinyl, with new liner notes and updated artwork. There’s a roll of the tongue, a couplet and some convolution underpinning Giant Sand’s 2015 opus ‘Heartbreak Pass’. So the story goes, so legend has it, a mere 30 years into their career, almost ten years ago, Giant Sand were regrouped and, for a fleeting second, someone made sense of it all (the words, the genre swapping sound, the roll call of friends and accomplices, the majesty of polar opposites attracting). On ‘Heartbreak Pass’ the result from this lengthy travelogue is a memoir filled with trinkets exchanged along the way. Sure, the Arizona desert is there, gritty and unforgiving but Howe's one-man-band is joined by a throng of well-wishers, this time around including Steve Shelley (Sonic Youth), Grant-Lee Phillips and Ilse DeLange (Common Linnets), The Voices Of Praise Choir, oft-time collaborator John Parish, Grandaddy’s Jason Lytle, Maggie Bjorklund on pedal steel, Italian singer/songwriter Vinicio Capossela and many more. It’s an album that travels far and shows its road weariness in places but it’s a celebration in all its ragged glory. In his original sleevenotes Howe pondered the fact that “The album is roughly broken into three volumes - loud and lucky abandon; heady steady and direct (Gelb's vision of Americana); and the heart in constant turmoil and something about a transponder.” He summarised: “I can't recommend it, nor do I regret it. It's been one life split into two.”


Tracks: A1 Heaventually A2 Texting Feist A3 Hurtin' Habit A4 Transponder A5 Song So Wrong A6 Every Now And Then A7 Man On A String B1 Home Sweat Home B2 Eye Opening B3 Pen To Paper B4 House In Order B5 Gypsy Candle B6 Done

Treviso, Italy-based two piece Kill Your Boyfriend will release their fourth album 'Voodoo' on October 14th via Sister 9 Recordings (Europe), Little Cloud Records (North America) and Shyrec (Itay). A frantic and hypnothising bacchanalia of Psych & Industrial tinged soundwaves, the new album is a collection of reverb laden necromantic charms, summoning the souls and bones of the greats in the Rock & Roll pantheon of the 1950s. The duo delivers such glittery dark enchantment via 7 hoodoo hymns, travelling with a crumbling, ghostly and magically whizzing Rocket 88, in the company of Marie Laveau and madame Lalaurie. It's a relentless whirl of Voodoo-Psych, Industrial-Billy, Electro-GrisGris, which you can dance to. The new LP follows 'Killadelica', where Kill Your Boyfriend had refined their debut signature sound, bridging the gap between the semi-obscure but hauntingly fascinating tradition of Veneto's Post-Punk (Death In Venice, Evabraun, Pyramids, etc.) and contemporary Psych-Nouveau. With 'Voodoo', Matteo Scarpa and Antonio Angeli, explore new genres and expand the sonic borders, without losing their original intent. They replace the synth bass with a bass-guitar, adding more fluidity and weight to a renewed and punchier rhythmic section. Electronic and acoustic percussion are fuller and heavier, and the band's new stomp-machine is a hyper-convulsive version of the saturated Rock & Roll and R&B drumming, from the cheap garage studios of 1950s indie labels. Sida A is the most Rock & Roll of the two, and it is inspired by Michael Ventura's essay "Hear that Long Snake Moan", which brought forward the idea that "the Voodoo rite of possession by the god became the standard of American performance in Rock’n’Roll" where the performers "let themselves be possessed not by any god they could name but by the spirit they felt in the music”. Each song invokes one or a set of the lost souls of the Rock & Roll era, with 'The Day The Music Died' referring to the infamous 3rd of February 1959. Side B descends deeper into the magic swamps of Creole magic, with music taking on a much more liturgical function, conjuring shamanic possessions via extra layers of tribal percussion. The band says of side B: "we see it as a one long ritualistic descent into a psychedelic underworld made of echoing voices, claustrophobic spaces populated by lost souls, enchanters and witchdoctors."

TRACKLIST 1. The King 2. The Man In Black 3. Mr Mojo 4. Buster 5. The Day The Music Died 6. Papa Legba 7. Vodoo

After a 2 year hiatus, Madam X's KAIZEN imprint comes back full force, with an upgraded aesthetic and brand new wave of leftfield, off-kilter club music. KZN009 sees one of Manchester's most exciting up & coming producers, Cartridge, mark his debut with a fierce 2 tracker, loaded with soundsystem pressure and gully 130 artillery in the Banada EP. Melodic Grime, moody Dubstep, and sub-heavy textures sprinkle this wobby release, designed for dark rooms, splintered basements and heavy soundsystems. With an impressive back catalogue on Deep Dark & Dangerous, Albion Collective & one half of Regents alongside Manchester kingpin Strategy (Broke'n'£nglish), Cartridge is no stranger to the UK's burgeoning bass music scene.

On the A side, we have Banada, a melodic eastern-flavoured instrumental, with elements of Grime and Dubstep carrying the tune to its arpeggiated crescendo.

A singing voice and raspy melody build the tension before a heavily distorted switch up catches you off guard, leading you further down a Dubstep rabbit hole, and into a world of shady and sinister drops, sitting perfectly alongside the label's strictly hoods-up, heads-down tip.

Teaming up with KAIZEN heavyweight and local scene hero Biome on the B-Side, Ricky Rosé has proved a firm favourite for those peak-time, no-holds-barred, bass-in-your-face, power hour moments. Relentless in its metallic bassline and thumping 808 drums, this explosive club tool comes with a solid side-serving of gunfingers and screwfaces.

The third and most seasoned Drugdealer album, Hiding In Plain Sight, almost didn't happen at all. Frustrated and insecure with his own singing voice prior to the pandemic, Drugdealer founder and primary songwriter Michael Collins was nearly ready to throw in the towel. Due to a frequent impulse to hand over the microphone to friends and collaborators like Weyes Blood, Jackson MacIntosh, and his trusty musical companion Sasha Winn, Collins became increasingly unsure of himself as a singer. While attending Mexican Summer's annual Marfa Myths festival, a chance encounter with artist and composer Annette Peacock changed his outlook. Collins says, "I was so inspired by Annette. But similarly to all these other vocalists I'd worked with, I didn't feel like I had it in me." he recalls. "I told her my plight, then I played her a song, and she told me I wasn't singing high enough for my speaking voice. When I returned to LA, I started coming up with new progressions, which I'd modulate up three half steps. It forced me to find a new way to sing." "Madison," is the first song Collins wrote singing in this suggested range. His newfound confidence as a yarn-spinning vocalist in the gruff tenor tradition of Nick Lowe, or even Van Morrison, is readily apparent, with Conor "Catfish" Gallaher's pedal steel adding a dusting of cosmic country to Collins' down-hard love song. When Collins wrote the would-be AM Gold hit, he was summoning an imaginary vision of a love that had eluded him in reality. Tim Presley sings on the second song, "Baby," and Collins had a clear role in mind for the California avant-rock mainstay. "I love White Fence so much, but I also wanted to hear Presley sing a song that sounded like an early '60s sock hop band who had never tried drugs in their life." Meanwhile, Kate Bollinger floats an effervescent lead vocal over the Rhodes-driven groove in “Pictures of You.”. Taking inspiration from a canon of gruff but soulful rock vocalists like Phil Lynott, Collins looks back on his nocturnal meanderings through LA's warrens of bars and clubs ("New Fascination"). He’s right up front in the mix, detailing a search for love in all the wrong places.

Gondwana Records announces Horizons the debut album from Jasmine Myra, produced by Matthew Halsall, it's an elevating debut record of understated beauty

Jasmine Myra is a Leeds-based saxophonist, composer and band leader Her original instrumental music has a euphoric and uplifting sound, influenced by artists as diverse as Kenny Wheeler, Bonobo and Olafur Arnalds and like Mammal Hands and Hania Rani her music has a special, emotive quality that draws the listener into her world. Matthew Halsall first heard Myra's music in 2019 shortly before the pandemic hit, signing her to Gondwana Records and producing her beautiful debut album, Horizons.

"I was immediately drawn to Jasmine's music. I could hear jazz, electronica in her music but with a deep, honest, emotional quality. I was really impressed with her skills as a composer and bandleader, that she is open and intelligent enough to bring all those influences together, to make something fresh and original. We were also delighted to work with a young artist from the North of England. London is often seen as the place to be, but cities like Manchester and Leeds are full of creative musicians too, and that sense of local community is at the heart of our values as a label."

Myra came-up through the bustling, creative Leeds music scene and her music draws on the sense of community that permeates life in the city and which is notable for a strong DIY ethos in its musical community. She attended Leeds Conservatoire and played with the Leeds based Abstract Orchestra, a jazz big-band, led by tutor Rob Mitchell that explores the synergy between jazz and hip-hop found in the recordings of Madlib, MF Doom of J Dilla. Indeed, Myra cites MF Doom and Soweto Kinch as early influences on her own music. It was in her last year at the conservatoire that Myra started to consider leading her own group and started to really think about what her own music might sound like and her first band featured guitarist Ben Haskins and drummer George Hall who both feature on Horizons and her band draws heavily on the Leeds community featuring rising stars such as pianist Jasper Green and harpist Alice Roberts.

Myra also mentions local legend, Dave Walker, who owns an instrument repair shop called 'All Brass and Woodwind' which is right next to the music college. She worked there while studying and he introduced her to a lot of local musicians. Walker also has his own line of saxophones (played by Shabaka Hutchins, Pete Wareham and Nubya Garcia), and gifted Myra the saxophone she plays on Horizons. It was Walker who encouraged Myra to apply for Jazz North Introduces, a scheme that supports emerging jazz artists in the North of England and Myra credits her winning a place, in 2018,with helping her grow in confidence.

" It gave me the opportunity to start gigging outside of Leeds, which I was very keen to do. I was quite surprised by people's reaction to the project and the support I was being shown, which helped me gain a lot of confidence. It became clear to me very quickly that being a solo artist was what I wanted to do and it was also apparent to me that mine was one of the only female-led instrumental bands on the Leeds scene, which encouraged me even more, as I wanted my project to inspire younger female musicians".

Horizons was produced by Matthew Halsall and mixed by Portico Quartet collaborator Greg Freeman, and much of the music was written during lockdown. It was a hard time for a lot of people, and initially Myra struggled mentally, deprived of shows and the connections of making music with her band and friends, but she also realised what she wanted as an artist and the result is heard on Horizons.

"I realised that my aim was to start writing music that made people feel happy and uplifted. Writing is one of my biggest passions, but I also love performing. Playing live and seeing the audience connect with my music and have a positive experience brings me so much joy".

This sense of elevation is at the heart of Horizons, together with the feeling of a journey, of reaching new ground. Prologue and Horizons were originally composed as one piece as they encapsulate Myra's own personal development as she worked on the album - taking the listener on a journey, especially Prologue; and then Horizons is that moment of release when you've reached the end goal. 1000 Miles takes inspiration from the music of Shabaka and the Ancestors. Whereas Words Left Unspoken was written after Myra's grandmother unexpectedly passed away in June, and due to Covid restrictions she was unable to visit her before she passed and say how much she loved her. Morningtide is a nod to Kenny Wheeler, particularly the track Opening from Sweet Time Suite on Music for Large and Small Ensembles but Myra also puts her own spin on it as she also does with Promise, another track influenced by Wheeler. Awakening has a calm and euphoric quality and represents that sense of problems lifting, or of reaching the other side, and New Beginnings finishes the album with a positive vibe and a sense of moving forward from darkness

This then is Horizons. A soulful, emotional and up-lifting debut from a major new voice. A snapshot of a young artist at the beginning of her journey - drawing on jazz and electronica influences to create something fresh and new. But also a celebration of her home town Leeds, and a record built on a sense of support and community before looking out to wider Horizons.

Jamie Cullum on BBC Radio 2 "...That's Jasmine Myra and 'New Beginnings', wonderful to hear new music from a new artists i've not heard before, a great new artist!"

Tom Ravenscroft on BBC 6 Music "Leeds-based saxophonist, composer and band leader Jasmine Myra. 'New Beginnings' on Gondwana Records. Compositions drawing influence by Kenny Wheeler, Bonobo, Ólafur Arnalds. Produced by Matthew Halsall"

The renowned trio of Keiji Haino, Jim O’Rourke and Oren Ambarchi return to Black Truffle with their 11th release, “Caught in the dilemma of being made to choose” This makes the modesty which should never been closed off itself Continue to ask itself: “Ready or not?” Demonstrating once again their commitment to continual experimentation in instrumentation and approach, the record begins with a long-distance collaboration made in response to a commission from New York’s Issue Project Room in 2021 during widespread lockdowns and travel limitations. A unique piece in the trio’s extensive body of work, this side-long epic finds Haino performing on metal percussion, O’Rourke on electronics and Ambarchi on gongs and bells. Initially dominated by rapid patterns on resonant, high-pitched tuned percussion, the piece sets Haino’s dynamic and dramatic performance against a calm backdrop of cycling electronics, thrumming gong strikes and hanging bell tones. The performance develops a heightened, intensely concentrated atmosphere reminiscent of Haino’s classic Tenshi No Ginjinka or his Nijiumu project; when Haino moves to clashing hand cymbals in its second half, the piece’s ritualistic energy suggests aspects of the music of Tibetan Buddhism.

The remainder of the double LP documents the trio live at Tokyo’s SuperDeluxe (the location of all but their very first recording) in a wide-ranging set recorded in December 2017. The concert opens, in another first for the trio, with Haino on drums, O’Rourke on Hammond organ and Ambarchi on his signature Leslie cabinet guitar tones. Haino’s explosively untutored approach to the drumkit will be familiar to some listeners from the radical duo iteration of Fushitsusha heard on Origin’s Hesitation. Setting flurries of rapid activity against moments of silence, his drumming here at times suggests Milford Graves in its tumbling toms and thudding kick-drum propulsion. Accompanied by O’Rourke’s organ and Ambarchi’s guitar, which in their shared use of long tones and shifting modulation speeds almost blend into a single voice, the opening sections of this performance are some of the most magical music the trio has committed to tape thus far.

After an interlude of spoken vocals in both Japanese and English, Haino makes a dramatic entrance on guitar. Against O’Rourke and Ambarchi’s increasingly intense electronic backdrop, Haino unleashes a stunning passage of slowly moving chromatic melodies and sudden shrieking explosions bathed in distortion and reverb. By the time we reach the third side, the guitar/bass/drums power trio is established and lurches into a passage of massive, lumbering rock that threatens to fall apart at every beat, O’Rourke’s strummed chordal work on six string bass creating a harmonic density equivalent to a second guitar. An abrupt edit throws the listener in media res into a frantic locked groove grounded by fuzzed out bass patterns and caveman drums. As Haino moves through a variety of approaches, from massive edifices of stuttering fuzz to ominous swarms of feedback, the trio eventually stumble into a kind of Harmolodic military tattoo, Haino’s guitar weaving and slashing across the rhythm section’s irregular accents. Moving through an epic opening duet for O’Rourke on Hammond and Haino’s wailing guitar, the fourth side eventually ramps up into a frenetic finale of mad bass riffing, crackling snare hits and guitar squall.“Caught in the dilemma of being made to choose” This makes the modesty which should never been closed off itself Continue to ask itself: “Ready or not?” is a testament to the continuing power and invention of this trio, who continue to seek out new terrain after over a decade working together. 2LP set presented in a lavish gatefold sleeve on heavy stock along with inner sleeves containing live pics by Tsuyoshi Kamaike. Photography by Jim O’Rourke, design by Lasse Marhaug and translation by Alan Cummings.

"We Will Live On" by Deru was made with a Disklavier (an acoustic piano outfitted with solenoids that allowed it to be digitally controlled) and custom made software to sequence it. This made the piano appear to play itself. Technology seemingly embedded with humanity.

After a long hiatus partly initiated by our re-energizing from an incredibly hectic season, always with love and rhythm; Sacred Rhythm & Cosmic Arts are back; We are so excited about what's coming in the nearest future and onward. All praises go to our associations, partner Labels, our growing connection with our family of music creators and distributors, and of course; our unwavering love and appreciation with and for all of you our supporters, for whom we would not have made it this far without. That said, we are thrilled to announce this first release to kick off our upcoming season. We proudly present The Reflections EP by Artist / DJ Roi Azulay. The Reflection EP is the third release on Sacred Rhythm by Roi Azulay. On this EP Roi chose to illuminate a deeper almost acoustic side of his multi-dimensional production outputs. There are three compositions featured on this 12 Inch- one of which is a remix produced by the one and only Ron Trent, who without fail provides us with the dopeness that we've no doubt come to expect from this dope visionary… We invite you, however to dive further into Roi's world and take a deeper listen to the entirety of the EP, all the while taking in the full essence of this music tale that Roi Azulay tells via voices on his compositions, which by the way are siblings of a forthcoming Full-length Album Coming shortly… speaking of which, Roi's Full-length LP will feature a Kuniyuki Remix on

The Older I Get, the Funnier I Was, which follows Thomas’ brilliant 2020 HBO special The Golden One and his Can't Believe You're Happy Here EP released earlier this year, surveys a range of emotion and offers a broad sonic palette, moving between pop punk, electro, and the obvious influence of the singer-songwriters he grew up listening to in early childhood. It conjures the ennui of Bright Eyes alongside the barefaced storytelling of John Prine, the overstuffed lists of Fred Thomas with the lackadaisical humor of Colleen Green, among many others.

Thomas attributes the dexterity of the record to Duterte, who recorded and engineered most of it in addition to serving up plenty of encouragement when Thomas got down on the process. “As a comic, I used to test out new songs during sets to see if the funny bits were hitting, but since I wrote this in isolation I ended up writing lyrics and worrying less about making jokes,” Thomas says. That said, the album’s plenty funny. Stand-out and lead single “Rigamarole” opens with a Thomas-voiced infomercial that recalls his oft-cited lookalike Jim Carrey as the Grinch, before launching into a buoyant pop song about being depressed.

Whitmer Thomas will admit that when he traveled home to small town Gulf Shores, Alabama to record his HBO stand-up special, The Golden One, he expected to be greeted as a returning hero, a conquering king, or at minimum, a guy with a moderately successful career as an entertainer in Los Angeles. “I expected a big welcome home, open arms, but when I went back I realized: nobody fucking knows me. Nobody remembers me,” Thomas says. “In the years I’d been performing that show, I’d been romanticizing my childhood in this mythologized place, but the visit made me see that I’m not really from there anymore.”

The sense of alienation compounded when Thomas recognized how few people in town remembered his mom, to whom The Golden One is dedicated and largely about. Thomas grew up watching her perform with her twin sister at the legendary Flora-Bama Lounge, where he set the special, and still counts her as one of his musical influences. His new album, The Older I Get, the Funnier I Was, isn’t overtly about his mom, her presence is deeply felt throughout. While in Gulf Shores, Thomas discovered dozens of her old recordings, all of which had been wrecked by Katrina, but upon returning to LA, Thomas paid “a fancy place in Hollywood” to fix the tapes and hired Melina Duterte (Jay Som, Bachelor, Routine) to mix them. The two struck up a collaborative friendship, and Thomas had the sound of his mom’s voice back. “I was listening to songs she recorded when she was about my age, just these heartfelt, sweet Americana songs,” he says. “I decided then that I wanted to lose the Ian Curtis voice I always sing with; I wanted to do what came naturally, because my mom always sounded like herself, even when she was singing some cheesy reggae song about, like, Jamaica.”

Thus he went into The Older I Get, the Funnier I Was knowing it was time to retire his darkwave persona, and leaning into his natural, chirpier voice, which he says sounds “like a 12-year-old’s.” It makes sense: much of the album chronicles what Thomas calls “being a kid and feeling like you have no control and overcompensating by being annoying.” “So much of the album is about witnessing drug and alcohol addiction as a kid and seeing what it does to people, but also realizing that there's nothing you can do about it,” Thomas says. It’s familiar territory (see: “Partied to Death”) but the methodology is different this time around; true to its title, The Older I Get, the Funnier I Was isn’t always looking for laughs. Thomas might’ve left his hometown behind, but his kid self is still tagging along, a Peter Pan shadow he can’t untether himself from. The first line he sings on The Older I Get, the Funnier I Was is: “There should be a room at every party where you can just sit and watch a movie.” Find a 12-year-old who wouldn’t say the same.

Several things happened before a warm day when I met the four members of Frankie Cosmos in a Brooklyn studio to begin making their album. Greta Kline spent a few years living with her family and writing a mere 100 songs, turning her empathy anywhere from the navel to the moon, rendering it all warm, close and reflexively humorous. In music, everyone loves a teen sensation, but Kline has never been more fascinating than now, a decade into being one of the most prolific songwriters of her generation. She's lodged in my mind amongst authors, other observational alchemists like Rachel Cusk or Sheila Heti, but she's funnier, which is a charm endemic to musicians. Meanwhile Frankie Cosmos, a rare, dwindling democratic entity called a band, had been on pandemic hiatus with no idea if they'd continue. In the openness of that uncertainty they met up, planning to hang out and play music together for the first time in nearly 500 days. There, whittling down the multitude of music to work with, they created Inner World Peace, a collection of Greta's songs changed and sculpted by their time together. While Kline's musical taste at the time was leaning toward aughts indie rock she'd loved as a teenager, keyboardist Lauren Martin and drummer Luke Pyenson cite "droning, meditation, repetition, clarity and intentionality," as well as "'70s folk and pop" as a reference for how they approached their parts. Bassist/guitarist Alex Bailey says that at the time he referred to it as their "ambient" or "psych" album. Somewhere between those textural elements and Kline's penchant for concise pop, Inner World Peace finds its balance. The first order of business upon setting up camp in Brooklyn's Figure 8 studios was to project giant colorful slides the band had made for each track. Co-producing with Nate Mendelsohn, my Shitty Hits Recording partner, we aimed for FC's aesthetic idiosyncrasies to shine. The mood board for "Magnetic Personality" has a neon green and black checkerboard, a screen capture of the game Street Fighter with "K.O." in fat red letters, and a cover of Mad Magazine that says "Spy Vs. Spy! The Top Secret Files." On tracks like "F.O.O.F." (Freak Out On Friday), "Fragments" and "Aftershook," the group are at their most psychedelic and playful, interjecting fuzz solos, bits of percussion, and other sonically adventurous ear candy. An internal logic strengthens everything, and in their proggiest moments, Frankie Cosmos are simply a one-take band who don't miss. When on Inner World Peace they sound wildly, freshly different, it may just be that they're coming deeper into their own. Inner World Peace excels in passing on the emotions it holds. When in the towering "Empty Head" Kline sings of wanting to let thoughts slide away, her voice is buoyed on a bed of synths and harmonium as tranquility abounds. When her thoughts become hurried and full of desire, so does the band, and she leaps from word to word as if unable to contain them all. As a group, they carry it all deftly, and with constant regard for Kline's point of view. Says Greta, "To me, the album is about perception. It's about the question of "who am I?" and whether or not the answer matters. It's about quantum time, the possibilities of invisible worlds. The album is about finding myself floating in a new context. A teenager again, living with my parents. An adult, choosing to live with my family in an act of love. Time propelled us forward, aged us, and also froze. If you don't leave the house, who are you to the world? Can you take the person you discover there out with you?" - Katie Von Schleicher

Several things happened before a warm day when I met the four members of Frankie Cosmos in a Brooklyn studio to begin making their album. Greta Kline spent a few years living with her family and writing a mere 100 songs, turning her empathy anywhere from the navel to the moon, rendering it all warm, close and reflexively humorous. In music, everyone loves a teen sensation, but Kline has never been more fascinating than now, a decade into being one of the most prolific songwriters of her generation. She's lodged in my mind amongst authors, other observational alchemists like Rachel Cusk or Sheila Heti, but she's funnier, which is a charm endemic to musicians. Meanwhile Frankie Cosmos, a rare, dwindling democratic entity called a band, had been on pandemic hiatus with no idea if they'd continue. In the openness of that uncertainty they met up, planning to hang out and play music together for the first time in nearly 500 days. There, whittling down the multitude of music to work with, they created Inner World Peace, a collection of Greta's songs changed and sculpted by their time together. While Kline's musical taste at the time was leaning toward aughts indie rock she'd loved as a teenager, keyboardist Lauren Martin and drummer Luke Pyenson cite "droning, meditation, repetition, clarity and intentionality," as well as "'70s folk and pop" as a reference for how they approached their parts. Bassist/guitarist Alex Bailey says that at the time he referred to it as their "ambient" or "psych" album. Somewhere between those textural elements and Kline's penchant for concise pop, Inner World Peace finds its balance. The first order of business upon setting up camp in Brooklyn's Figure 8 studios was to project giant colorful slides the band had made for each track. Co-producing with Nate Mendelsohn, my Shitty Hits Recording partner, we aimed for FC's aesthetic idiosyncrasies to shine. The mood board for "Magnetic Personality" has a neon green and black checkerboard, a screen capture of the game Street Fighter with "K.O." in fat red letters, and a cover of Mad Magazine that says "Spy Vs. Spy! The Top Secret Files." On tracks like "F.O.O.F." (Freak Out On Friday), "Fragments" and "Aftershook," the group are at their most psychedelic and playful, interjecting fuzz solos, bits of percussion, and other sonically adventurous ear candy. An internal logic strengthens everything, and in their proggiest moments, Frankie Cosmos are simply a one-take band who don't miss. When on Inner World Peace they sound wildly, freshly different, it may just be that they're coming deeper into their own. Inner World Peace excels in passing on the emotions it holds. When in the towering "Empty Head" Kline sings of wanting to let thoughts slide away, her voice is buoyed on a bed of synths and harmonium as tranquility abounds. When her thoughts become hurried and full of desire, so does the band, and she leaps from word to word as if unable to contain them all. As a group, they carry it all deftly, and with constant regard for Kline's point of view. Says Greta, "To me, the album is about perception. It's about the question of "who am I?" and whether or not the answer matters. It's about quantum time, the possibilities of invisible worlds. The album is about finding myself floating in a new context. A teenager again, living with my parents. An adult, choosing to live with my family in an act of love. Time propelled us forward, aged us, and also froze. If you don't leave the house, who are you to the world? Can you take the person you discover there out with you?" - Katie Von Schleicher

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

South-east Turkey born DJ, sound artist and producer Banu uses music as a political tool. For her, the strong message carried through sound is a vehicle to express emotions as well as a means of fighting against oppression. Using participation, social design, ecology, feminist and queer theory to create multimedia installations with sound as a main element, Banu‘s practice is closer to contemporary art and activist spaces than the club realm.

Banu‘s debut album TransSoundScapes is an exercise in female solidarity between her as a migrant woman and her sisters from the trans community, where an artist from one marginalised group is showing support towards her trans sisters, using her platform to help them amplify their voices and building a bridge towards a mutual understanding of femininity.

Conceptually, TransSoundScapes comes in continuation of Banu‘s previous research-based work, using music as a positive tool for change while working with various marginalised communities. The album originated from the very real experience of being confronted with verbal harassment in Berlin on a daily basis, particularly aimed at her transfeminine friends and companions. As a queer woman of Turkish and Kurdish origin, Banu did not only observe the verbal aggression directed at her friends, but also understood most of the insults shouted in languages such as Arabic. Seeing how she got signifi cantly more verbal violence directed at them when in company of trans people made a lasting impression on her, so she wanted to try and use her relative privilege to amplify transfeminine voices through her music.

Coming from a very conservative family, making music has been her lifelong dream. It was the moment she had the opportunity to work with the iconic Arp 2600 synthesiser (a younger sibling to Eliane Radigue‘s infamous 2500 machine) that all her disparate interests came into place to create an empowering soundscape with the aid of analogue drum machines. TransSoundScapes has a very full, porous sound, where every element that comes into play sounds soft yet clear. Across the 7 tracks, Banu conjures pounding subterraneous bassy techno („Surgery“), slithering tentacular EBM („First Time“) and pulsating cavernous soundscapes („Harem“), where oversized dancefl oor elements are woven with poetic spoken word passages, resulting in sensusous yet political anthems. Banu artfully merges loosely related genres such as techno, electro, dub and sound poems into a sound that is at once deeply personal and extremely compelling.

All of the tracks are collaborative efforts, Banu seeing the process as an exchange of care and shared experiences, while integrating research into her writing process. The lyrics in „Transition (part 1+2)‘‘ are an adaptation of Sara Ahmed’s “Living a Feminist Life”, while „Surgery“ was born out of series of interviews with trans people, channeling the metallic sounds of a surgery room to refer to society‘s perception of transness as a medical condition. Tracks like „First Time feat. Patricia“, „Harem feat. Prince Emrah“ or „We feat. Aérea Negrot“ document her encounters with various trans women, centering their life experiences while also developing a deep dialogue through the process of making music together.

The darkest and perhaps the most emblematic track is ‚‘Bianka (In Memory Of)‘‘, dedicated to the late Bianka Shigurova, a 22-year old Georgian actress found dead in her apartment. It was her Tbilisi photographer friend George Nebriedze who told her Bianka‘s tragic story, whose death is suspected to be an assasination due to transphobia. Banu chose one of Nebriedze‘s analogue photos of Bianka as the album‘s cover art.

CITY BURIALS - KATATONIA'S 2020 STUDIO OPUS OF ABSORBING,
SOARING PROGRESSIVE ROCK & METICULOUSLY CRAFTED DOSES OF
MELANCHOLY - SINGLE LP FEATURING NEW HALF-SPEED MASTER FOR
OPTIMAL SOUND QUALITY.Formed in 1991 by Jonas Renkse & Anders
Nyström & transitioning from early pioneers of the rising black/death/
doom movement to powerhouses of the progressive metallic rock genre,
the Swedish connoisseurs of melancholy returned in 2020 with their
stellar opus, 'City Burials' - the band's eleventh studio album & first since
2016's haunting 'The Fall Of Hearts'
With the winds of a new direction steering the band on their latest journey, 'City
Burials' stood as a triumph of deep & enigmatic progressive rock – the fruits of a
rejuvenating & profound chapter in the band's legacy & a catalyst for its creators.
Compiled into one of their most important modern works & statements to date,
the finely- honed instrumentation provides a multi- textured backdrop with the
voice of Jonas Renkse guiding us through these latest trials of loss & ruin.
The chemistry between Jonas, Anders & their band mates – bassist Niklas
Sandin, drummer Daniel Moilanen & most recent recruit, guitarist Roger Öjersson
– never sounded more potent, with 'City Burials' being the first album Katatonia
made since Öjersson became a full-time member.
Inspired by an injection of fresh blood into Katatonia's creative brew, 'City Burials'
helped Katatonia reclaim part of their heavy metal roots, via several moments of
exuberant, old- school classicism, deftly woven into these new songs'
kaleidoscopic fabric, resulting in an album that propelled the band ever further
into the spotlight.
'City Burials' was produced by Nyström/ Renkse & recorded at Soundtrade
Studios, Tri-Lamb Studios & The City Of Glass, throughout October & November
2019, with engineering work handled by Karl Daniel Lidén. The album also
featured a guest appearance by Anni Bernhard, the voice behind Stockholm
based act 'Full Of Keys'. Artwork appeared courtesy of Lasse Hoile, the image
itself representing the ongoing era of the Dead End King.
This edition of 'City Burials' is presented on single black vinyl, featuring a new
half-speed vinyl master for optimal sound quality.