Search:matt turner

Videosphere, the debut album by Kompakt’s latest signing, the London-based artist Lake Turner (aka Andrew Halford), swoons into focus with “The Sunbird”, a teasing drift of lilting, ambient tones, riding out a submerged piston-pulse rhythm. Across its brief 109 seconds, it manages to traverse evocative terrain – something mythopoetic, something both humble and grandiose, a glimpse of the other behind the sky’s curtain. “I wanted to conjure up something resembling an ancient ceremony or death procession,” Turner nods. “Like a hymn to the surroundings of a faraway hill.” It’s both sky-bound and earthen, a ritual incantation to call in the music of the spheres.

Turner was introduced to the Kompakt family by his sometime collaborator Yannis Philippakis of Foals. He’d previously made music in post-punk and indie groups Great Eskimo Hoax and Trophy Wife, but Videosphere is the first time he’s fully articulated his own vision of electronic music, aside from one limited lathe-cut 12”, 2018’s Prime Mover EP, on Algebra. The lush ambient-disco-techno dreams of Videosphere were constructed and completed in his London studio and at his parents’ arable and sheep farm in Worcestershire, which might help explain the hazy, unhurried pastoralism of the album.

“There was a slight bittersweetness in finishing the record (in Worcestershire) as my parents were in the middle of selling my childhood home,” he sighs, before quipping, “on the plus, I ended up shearing a lot of sheep over the summer.” A student of archaeology and ancient history, Turner is no doubt carefully attuned to the twisting cogs of history and memory, and it’s no surprise that Videosphere has a nostalgic, melancholic cast; much of its beauty rests in the way it tugs, gently, at the heart strings – see the tear-stained cheeks of the lush, dappled “Honeycomb”, or the sweetly sad electro-roundelay of “No Way Back Forever.”

It’s not all drift-dream hypnosis, though – Videosphere is very much grounded in the now. ““No Way Back Forever” is a nod to the linear nature of time,” Turner explains by way of example, “and the tipping point of the world climate crisis that scientists have now declared.” Jayne Powell’s vocals are sent spinning through the song, wound like candyfloss; she takes centre stage on the techno hymnal title track, too. Throughout, there’s a sense of forward movement, despite the life stasis we find ourselves collectively bound by in mid-2020; there’s also a yearning for the communal, for community, that’s captured in the album title, a nod to an object Turner encountered at London’s Geoffrey Museum, “a television set in the shape of a spaceman’s helmet from the 1970s.”

“The vision I loosely had was to make an electronic record that had a communal warmth and almost ceremonial or ritual feel. I wanted to examine the relationship of our archaic minds in the trappings of the modern world,” Turner concludes. “What the Videosphere also symbolizes for me is the oneness of humanity and community, prevailing.”
Eröffnet wird "Videosphere", das Debütalbum von Kompakts jüngstem Signing, dem in London ansässigen Künstler Lake Turner (alias Andrew Halford), mit "The Sunbird" - einem herausfordernden Strom aus Ambient Sounds, die zu schweben scheinen, um sich dann in einen subtilen, maschinellen Rhythmus zu verwandeln. In gerade mal 109 Sekunden gelingt es dem Stück, ein gewaltiges Terrain abzuschreiten - etwas Mythopoetisches, bescheiden und grandios zugleich, gibt uns eine Ahnung davon, was sich hinter dem Himmel verbirgt. "Ich wollte etwas heraufbeschwören, das einer alten Zeremonie oder Totenprozession ähnelt", sagt Turner, "wie eine Hymne an die Umgebung eines weit entfernten Hügels." Himmlisch und irdisch zugleich, eine rituelle Beschwörung von Sphärenmusik.

Der Kompakt Label-Familie wurde Turner von dessen zeitweiligen Mitarbeiter Yannis Philippakis (Foals) vorgestellt. Zuvor hatte er in den Post Punk- und Indie-Bands Great Eskimo Hoax und Trophy Wife gespielt. Bis auf eine limitierte lathe-cut 12", der "Prime Mover EP" auf Algebra von 2018, artikuliert Turner mit "Videosphere" zum ersten Mal seine eigene Vision von elektronischer Musik.

Die üppigen Ambient-Disco-Techno-Träume von "Videosphere" hat Turner in seinem Londoner Studio und auf der Schaffarm seiner Eltern in Worcestershire produziert, was den nebulösen, gemächlichen und beinahe pastoralen Charakter des Albums erklären könnte.

"Es gab einen bittersüßen Moment als ich mit der Platte (in Worcestershire) fertig geworden war, da meine Eltern gerade dabei waren, das Haus meiner Kindheit zu verkaufen", seufzt er, bevor er witzelt, "das Positive war, dass ich im Laufe des Sommers eine Menge Schafe geschoren habe". Als Student der Archäologie und der Geschichte des Altertums ist Turner zweifellos mit den sich unaufhörlich drehenden Rädern der Geschichte und der daran geknüpften Erinnerungen vertraut, und es ist keine Überraschung, dass "Videosphere" einen nostalgischen, melancholischen Einschlag hat; viel von seiner Schönheit liegt in der Art und Weise, wie es einem sanft ans Herz geht - die Tränen benetzten Wangen von "Honeycomb" oder der ambivalente Elektro-Reigen von "No Way Back Forever".

Trotz allem hypnotischen Driften und Träumen - Videosphere ist sehr stark im Jetzt verankert. "`No Way Back Forever`ist eine Anspielung auf die lineare Natur der Zeit", erklärt Turner beispielhaft, "und auf den Wendepunkt der globalen Klimakrise, den Wissenschaftler gerade ausgerufen haben". Jayne Powells Gesang wirbelt dabei wie Zuckerwatte durch den Song und steht auch im Mittelpunkt des technoid hymnischen Titelstücks. Überall ist ein Gefühl der Vorwärtsbewegung zu spüren, trotz der Stagnation, in der wir uns Mitte 2020 kollektiv befinden; trotzdem existiert eine Sehnsucht nach dem Gemeinsamen, nach Gemeinschaft, die im Albumtitel eingefangen ist - eine Referenz an ein Objekt, dem Turner im Londoner Geoffrey-Museum begegnete, "ein Fernsehgerät in Form eines Raumfahrerhelms aus den 1970er Jahren".

„Die lose Vision, die ich hatte, bestand darin, eine elektronische Platte zu machen, die eine soziale Wärme und eine fast zeremonielle oder rituelle Atmosphäre ausstrahlt. Ich wollte die Beziehung unseres archaischen Geistes in den Fallstricken der modernen Welt untersuchen", so Turner abschließend. "Was `Videosphere` für mich auch symbolisiert, ist die Einheit von Menschlichkeit und Gemeinschaft, die am Ende obsiegt".

Translated from Spanish as 'The Shade', Chip Wickham's debut album La Sombra drops after a 25-year career touring, recording and experimenting across three decades of jazz, funk, soul, hip-hop, Latin and electronica. La Sombra is a monumental record for Chip as it symbolises the moment he stepped out into the light as a director of his creations with freedom to explore his roots, express and tell his version of jazz and pay testament to his heroes Roland Kirk, Yuseef Lateef & Harold McNair.

Now living in Dubai after an intense and productive six years in Madrid, it was Manchester where Chip studied in the late '80s and became enmeshed in the chaotic and thrilling music scenes emanating from one of the world's most culturally prominent cities of the time. Recording and generally 'keeping things real' with Manchester's hip-hop collective Grand Central Records, Rae & Christian, The Pharcyde, Fingathing, Nightmares on Wax, Graham Massey (808 State), Chip was in a city that was undergoing a music revolution with the Haçienda as its temple. Yet it was the headlights of the M62 motorway and not the strobe lights that were lighting Chip's path during his student years ('88-'92). The lure of the jazz and funk clubs of Leeds, where The New Mastersounds were breaking out and building the blocks that would lead them to UK funk royalty status, proved too strong.

In the 1990s Chip continued to refine his craft in the rainy city and the gigs booked were growing in stature. It wasn't long before he was on the road with Roy Ayers and Badly Drawn Boy. Around that time Chip met up with trumpeter Matthew Halsall that was the beginning of a friendship that lasts to this day. Chip was a recording artist on Matthew Halsall's breakout album Sending My Love and continues to work with him, with live dates confirmed in spring 2017. This close connection with Halsall gave rise to other collaborations, such as with Nat Birchall and Go Go Penguin's Rob Turner.

Three decades after his late night excursions to Leeds, Chip found himself recording with Eddie Roberts from The New Mastersounds in Madrid, as part of their new band, The Fire Eaters, which he'd formed soon after he moved to sunny Spain in 2007 - the same year he released the Fried Samba album under his moniker Malena, his electronic Latin band that became a hit at the turn of the century for Freestyle Records. During his time in Spain he connected with the local scene and brought together many of his musicians colleagues from the UK to Spain and it was for a local and well established label, Lovemonk, that he released two 45s blending raw funk and Latin. These new roads and musical leanings led to an invitation to play for the prestigious Craig Charles Fantasy Funk Band. Based on a poll from Craig Charles' top rated BBC6 radio show, Chip was chosen to play alongside the cream of the UK funk & soul scene: James Taylor (JTQ), Snowboy, The Haggis Horns (Mark Ronson), John Turrell (Smooth & Turrell), and Mick Talbot (The Style Council).

La Sombra takes an altogether more rooted direction than Chip's recent collaborative work, with the jazz of the late '60s and early '70s a dominating influence to the recordings. Comprising of seven tracks recorded in Madrid with musicians assembled by Chip from Madrid's jazz scene, it combines contemplative explorations akin to Yusef Lateef's early work on tracks like 'La Sombra' and 'Pushed Too Far'. There's a fiery cover of Camarón de la Isla's classic 'La Leyenda Del Tiempo' and tracks like 'Sling Shot' and 'Red Planet' are locked in a groove harking back to Freddie Hubbard's Blue Note era and Luv N Haight's Nathan Davis.

First complete Sonic Youth album is one of Thurston Moore's favorites. Includes live cover of The Stooges' I Wanna Be Your Dog'. Vinyl includes digital download. Originally slated to be a 7' to follow up their self-titled debut, Sonic Youth's Confusion Is Sex blossomed into the band's first album: a brain-bludgeoning, completely fried endeavor of dissonance and disarray, a perfect soundtrack for running from a chain-wielding gang near the SIN Club. This was the sound of 1983 New York City, nothing like the jangly roots of college radio rock starting to formulate in Athens, Georgia. It sounded like no one else on Earth, for that matter. The raw, Wharton Tiers 8-track production is dark, the Kim Gordon- scrawled cover figure art of Thurston Moore is dark, Lee Ranaldo's back cover photo-collage and Catherine Ceresole's crumpled-xeroxed images that adorned the inside are dark. It's an album that moves Sonic Youth forward from their first EP almost by devolving backwards into true ugly, lo-fi primitivity. The bareboned arsenal of junkpile guitars and implementation of alternate tunings was growing, and so were the songs that matched the individual attributes of each instrument: certain ones groan and growl a specific way that the band started to realize itself could become the compositional germ of a song. Herein is the threshold of a new explosion of the band's creativity, replacing the comparatively cleaner buzz of the Sonic Youth EP with guitars that spew fractured, uglier chunks of sound everywhere, held down by menacing minimalist basslines (actually played by Thurston on half of this LP, and for the only time ever on Protect Me You,' Lee) and the brutal-yet-controlled metronomic drumming of Jim Sclavunos, augmented with replacement drummer Bob Bert's notable bashing on Making the Nature Scene' and grotty no-fi live rendition of I Wanna Be Your Dog.' Hearing the crashedwindow intro of Inhuman' and subway-brake screech of The World Looks Red,' you can attest that while Sonic Youth's guitars are not quite yet being utilized in the totally controlled, lyrical fashion seen later on albums like Evol, Daydream Nation et al., they were well aware of the colors and tonalities that were unfolding and the possibilities presented. Also, they were getting a grasp on adding colors to the chaos with tempered, simmering moments like Gordon's Shaking Hell' and Renaldo's chimy, home-taped Lee is Free.' Making the Nature Scene' and The World Looks Red' even toss in glints of hip-hop vocal approach way ahead of its time, albeit through a blender. While its confrontationalism might have put off some critics, time has rewarded Confusion with a truly distinctive air and atmosphere in the Sonic discography, enough to have Moore declare it his fave along with the band's swan-song The Eternal. Brian Turner, WFMU.