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Bahamadia’s 1996 debut album Kollage is rightly regarded as one of the greatest rap albums of the 1990s. For the first time ever, Be With present the definitive double LP version of this eternal hip-hop classic, including the legendary "Path To Rhythm" which never appeared on the original LP or on vinyl, anywhere. An indelible VIBE from start-to-finish, Kollage presents Bahamadia's swirling rhymes delivered with an irresistibly butter flow and razor-sharp assuredness over a steady slew of smoothed-out, jazzed-up, blunted beats. Achingly cool and effortlessly funky throughout, it's an absolute must for true 90s hip-hop fanatics.

The entire Kollage project was recorded at D&D Studios and the ties to Gang Starr are keenly felt, with DJ Premier producing five tracks in addition to the killer songs Guru had already produced with her. Working with the cream of the mid-90s East Coast sound, Kollage is, accordingly, a record that demonstrates a varied musical taste with disparate influences, as Bahamadia has previously stated: “The title Kollage was a reflection of my state of mind. I first got interested in music from playing my parents’ and grandparents’ records, as well what I heard on the radio. I wanted Kollage to reflect that diversity both lyrically and sonically."

With intelligent, poetic lyricism and a laconic verbal style bursting with both warm texture and deceptive energy, Bahamadia’s flow was as inspired by Aretha and Nancy Wilson as it was Q-Tip, Schoolly D and Lady B. Swaggering out the gate, "WordPlay" finds Bahamadia confidently showcasing her considerable old-school battle-rhyme skills over a Guru beat that utilises an infectiously bouncy bassline with splashes of sultry jazz horns and a Jeru vocal snatch for the hook. Up next, the quietly shimmering and ruggedly beautiful "Spontaneity" is one of the most alluring on the record, Da Beatminerz crafting a brilliantly soulful and jazzy soundscape for Bahamadia's effortless vocals to float across. It's followed by "Rugged Ruff", where the rapper carefully constructs a swift off-beat flow over Premier's raw jazzy fire.

With smooth spacey synth vibes overseen by former Geto Boys producer N.O. Joe, "I Confess" is, without question, a fly love song and soothing (p)-funk groove. "UKNOWHOWWEDU" is an airy, chilled tribute to her hometown. Produced by Ski Beatz & DJ Redhanded, it rides a gloriously mellow break. It's a true Philly anthem, shouting out a who’s who of the entire city’s scene. Early banger "Total Wreck" follows, presenting a murky Guru instrumental elevated by jazzy horns. Bahamadia invokes the title's suggestion, firing her brilliant bars more aggressively than we’re accustomed to. More Beatminerz-brilliance comes in the way of "Innovation", an opportunity for the MC to invoke Freestyle Fellowship in her forward-thinking and literary verses. "Da Jawn" features hometown buddies The Roots, with Black Thought gliding into a back-and-forth with Bahamadia over ?uestlove’s warm, snapping percussion. With the strut club banger "True Honey Buns (Dat Freak Sh*t)", DJ Premier provides some laidback vibrant boom bap for Bahamadia to share a wild, cautionary tale about a night out with her girl, Kia.

Fan favourite "3 Tha Hard Way" is a hypnotically sinister cut, with Bahamadia, K-Swift and Mecca Star taking star turns to coast over DJ Premier’s raw beat whilst the tender "Biggest Part Of Me" is a heartfelt stunner dedicated to her son. Incredibly, only the European and Japanese CD versions of Kollage was released with the brilliantly breezy “Path To Rhythm”, featuring Ursula Rucker. Whilst ostensibly a "bonus track", it's anything but, to our ears. Very much in sonic conversation with KRS-One's stretched-out sleeper classic "Higher Level", it's absolutely essential so we had to include it, appearing on wax for the first time here, exclusively. Quite a coup.

Somewhat predictably, whilst Kollage was released to significant critical acclaim, it suffered from disappointing sales. In the intervening years - and for far too long - it was a criminally underrated record, an increasingly hidden gem. We hope this double LP reissue - which looks and sounds amazing - will go some way to correct this. This 2024 Be With double LP re-issue has been mastered for vinyl by Simon Francis, cut by Cicely Balston and pressed at Record Industry. It's too bold and beautiful to remain overlooked and underserved.

Drumcode returns with its flagship A-Sides series, led by a huge new Adam Beyer single that highlights the 20-track compilation.

If you want a snapshot of techno in any given year, look no further than Drumcode’s annual A-Sides compilation. The release broadly charts the evolution of the genre, while giving a platform to standout demo’s Adam Beyer has received across the course of the year with many emerging artists finding their music on Drumcode for the first time. Case in point – Wehbba, Charles D and Raxon who all debuted on the label via a track on the A-Sides series and have gone on to become regular contributors to Beyer’s influential labels.

This year’s compilation features an exciting mix of established heavy-hitters, alongside a slew of new faces set to make their mark on the genre. ‘We Don’t Say Please’ – is emblematic of Adam Beyer’s sound in 2025 – fresh, experimental and thriving on cross-genre pollinations, as elements of bass music, rap and techno collide, underpinned by a distinctive UK vocal. The results are inspiring.

Elsewhere, the 20-track compilation brims with highlights. HI-LO’s ‘NYC to Amsterdam’ has inflections of New York house fused with driving techno elements. Nicole Moudaber returns to DC in cahoots with the rising ZLATA for the super-charged ‘Report to the Dancefloor’. Oscar L & Charles D mint a new collaborative partnership with the immersive, spacey cut ‘Lift Me Up’. LUSU continue their red-hot run following the recent ‘Move 2 the Groove’ EP, and craft a straight-up mind-mashing single ‘LIKE THIS’. Mark Reeve is in trademark strong form with hypnotic ‘My Mind’, which comes to life via a massive synth led. The fantastic Kaufmann shares her ‘People are Strange’, a nod to a classic vox, re-contextualised for a modern techno audience.

As is tradition, a troupe of ascendant producers land on Drumcode for the first time. They include Uruguay’s Enzo Monza, who delivers the crisp ‘Late Night’ – a favourite of Beyer’s; Mattia Saviola, whose ‘Parallel Dimension’ is a powerful cut with fantastic sound design; Romanian artist Tao Andra, who shares the celestial ‘Unity’; and long-time industry stalwart AdamK, who makes a richly deserved Drumcode debut in partnership with Vikthor feat. MC Stretch on the stunning ‘Silence + The Sound’.

Back in 2022, Is It Balearic? Recordings founders Coyote (AKA long-serving producers Richard Hampson aka Ampo and Timm Sure) took time out from releasing music on their own labels to deliver a near perfect mini-album on Phil Cooper’s similarly mind-ed NuNorthern Soul imprint, Everything Moves, Nothing Rests.

A superb exploration of their trademark sound, where gentle downtempo rhythms and nods to dub came cloaked in colourful ambient chords, sun-bright melodic motifs, organic instrumenta-tion and quirky spoken word samples, Everything Moves, Nothing Rests deserved a sequel. So, three and a half years on, the duo has delivered just that: a fine six-track EP that offers an even deeper and more atmospheric exploration of their signature sound.

It is a sonic approach that should now be familiar to Balearic en-thusiasts the world over. Aside from delivering a steady stream of singles, albums and remixes on their own imprint, Hampson and Sure have also showcased their skills and loved-up musical mis-sives on International Feel, Music For Dreams, Needwant, MM Discos and Citizens of Vice.

The Higher The Sky, The Deeper The Ocean, their hotly anticipated NuNorthern Soul return, is named in honour of a quote from Ped-ro Alonso’s documentary series On the Ship of Enchantment, an extended voyage in which the Money Heist movie star meets healers and masters of ancestral medicine across his native Mexi-co.

There’s naturally a meditative and slightly psychedelic sound to much of The Higher The Sky, The Deeper The Ocean, which offers a subtly varied exploration of Coyote’s style and influence. Yearning, soft-focus opener ‘Muted Beauty’ – the kind of immersive, effects-laden and sample-sporting ambient bliss found nestling on Fila Brazillia albums of the mid 1990s – is followed by the similarly gentle ‘Go All The Way’, where delay-laden acoustic guitars, spo-ken word snippets and gaseous chords stretch out atop a languid, slow-motion groove.

‘A Drop in the Ocean’ picks up the pace a little via a glorious hat-tip to turn of the 90s ambient house – all dub-wise bass, heady deep house sonics, spaced-out chords and half-buried references to sunrise-ready Balearic synth-pop records of the late 1980s. Late psychedelic guru Terrence McKenna appears in sampled form on ‘Dolce Far Niente’, a tabla-driven drift and musical hallucination which conjures mental images of lying in the Mexican desert, gazing intently at a starry sky.

In contrast, ‘Riviera Sound’ is a chunkier, brighter and more sun-splashed affair – all deep, dubby bass, sustained piano parts, punchy downtempo breaks and the duo’s trademark ambient pads – while superb closing cut ‘No Coincidences’ fixes jazzy double bass samples, twinkling keyboard motifs, subtle acid lines and Latin-laced percussion to a street soul-adjacent beat.

Heady, impeccably crafted and thoroughly enveloping, The Higher The Sky, The Deeper The Ocean is Coyote at their dazzling best. It marks another significant chapter in their ever-evolving musical journey.

Drumcode returns with its flagship A-Sides series, led by a huge new Adam Beyer single that highlights the 20-track compilation.

If you want a snapshot of techno in any given year, look no further than Drumcode’s annual A-Sides compilation. The release broadly charts the evolution of the genre, while giving a platform to standout demo’s Adam Beyer has received across the course of the year with many emerging artists finding their music on Drumcode for the first time. Case in point – Wehbba, Charles D and Raxon who all debuted on the label via a track on the A-Sides series and have gone on to become regular contributors to Beyer’s influential labels.

This year’s compilation features an exciting mix of established heavy-hitters, alongside a slew of new faces set to make their mark on the genre. ‘We Don’t Say Please’ – is emblematic of Adam Beyer’s sound in 2025 – fresh, experimental and thriving on cross-genre pollinations, as elements of bass music, rap and techno collide, underpinned by a distinctive UK vocal. The results are inspiring.

Elsewhere, the 20-track compilation brims with highlights. HI-LO’s ‘NYC to Amsterdam’ has inflections of New York house fused with driving techno elements. Nicole Moudaber returns to DC in cahoots with the rising ZLATA for the super-charged ‘Report to the Dancefloor’. Oscar L & Charles D mint a new collaborative partnership with the immersive, spacey cut ‘Lift Me Up’. LUSU continue their red-hot run following the recent ‘Move 2 the Groove’ EP, and craft a straight-up mind-mashing single ‘LIKE THIS’. Mark Reeve is in trademark strong form with hypnotic ‘My Mind’, which comes to life via a massive synth led. The fantastic Kaufmann shares her ‘People are Strange’, a nod to a classic vox, re-contextualised for a modern techno audience.

As is tradition, a troupe of ascendant producers land on Drumcode for the first time. They include Uruguay’s Enzo Monza, who delivers the crisp ‘Late Night’ – a favourite of Beyer’s; Mattia Saviola, whose ‘Parallel Dimension’ is a powerful cut with fantastic sound design; Romanian artist Tao Andra, who shares the celestial ‘Unity’; and long-time industry stalwart AdamK, who makes a richly deserved Drumcode debut in partnership with Vikthor feat. MC Stretch on the stunning ‘Silence + The Sound’.

Soul Music legend Candi Staton returns to her down-home Alabama roots on her 32nd album, Back to My Roots. The twelve-track Americana set features an array of Staton-penned originals and some well-chosen covers.

"These songs represent my roots," Staton adds as she reflects on her many trials and triumphs. "Even the new songs on some level represent something I've experienced and that's what real soul music is about." Back to My Roots was produced by Staton with her second eldest son, Marcus Williams, a professional drummer who has toured with the likes of Peabo Bryson, Isaac Hayes, and Tyler Perry. They brought in Mark Nevers of Lambchop fame, who produced three of Staton’s prior Americana albums for Honest Jon’s and Thirty Tigers, to sweeten certain tracks. “Some of the first songs I ever heard were songs like `Peace in the Valley’ and `It’s Gonna Rain,’” says Staton. “The new songs or cover songs are tracks that remind me of that era when I was growing up as a child and evolving as a young woman. That’s why I named the album Back to My Roots because I’m going back to the roots that made me who I am.”

Staton received the Americana Music Association UK’s highest honour, the International Lifetime Achievement Award, at the UK Americana Music Awards ceremony at Hackney Church in London last year for her southern soul work that stretches from her 1969 Muscle Shoals hits to her more recent collaborations with the likes of Americana kings Jason Isbell and John Paul White.
The album opens with a mid-tempo Bonnie Raitt-styled contemporary blues “I Missed the Target Again” that finds Harry Connick Jr.’s longtime guitarist Jonathan DuBose Jr. (aka the Prophesying Guitarist) showing off his skills that set the tone for the song and the album.

Staton’s older sister, Maggie Staton Peebles (who alongside Staton was a member of the Jewel Gospel Trio in the 1950s), joins her for two duets. The first, “It’s Gonna Rain,” features just a drum, steel guitar and vocals. “My mother used to sing that song to us all the time when I was a child,” Staton recalls. “It’s a really soulful kind of song I wanted to revisit.” They then take turns leading Thomas Dorsey 1939 gem “There Will Be Peace in the Valley” that Elvis Presley popularized in the 1950s.

“Hang on in There” is a new, mid-tempo song that has an old school gospel flavour and features vocals from veteran bluesman, Larry McCray.
While in Europe in 2023 for her farewell concert tour that took her to the Glastonbury Festival and Love Supreme, Staton and her British band, PUSH, went into a London studio to record a new version of The Rolling Stones’ 1972 gem, “Shine A Light.” “I love the way that came out,” Staton says. “We put a big choir on it and put our own twist on it.”
From there, Staton revives another Thomas Dorsey classic, “The Lord Will Make a Way Somehow,” with a bluesy vibe. When Al Green started recording gospel in the early 1980s, he re-introduced this song into the culture.

“God’s Gonna Use Me Anyway” is a new mid-tempo blues with subtle Caribbean influences.

The mood takes a turn on “1963.” It’s a poignant, spoken-word reflection on September 15, 1963, when four black girls were killed in the Birmingham Church bombing. “I was in the city that day and I remember the chaos and horror after the bombing,” Staton recalls. “Just thinking of how racism and hatred caused those men to kill those girls was so emotional for me that I could only do it in one take.”

It's a perfect segue into "Reach Down and Touch Heaven," a haunting, plea for divine intervention into the affairs of mankind. "That's straight Baptist," she says. "I used to be a church pianist back in the 1960s. I've never played piano on one of my records before so that's a unique song for me because I’m finally playing on one of my records. The message of that song is about the homeless. It came to me when a homeless person on the street asked me for $5. When God touches your heart to help somebody else that’s heaven to God’s hears. So, when we reach into our purse or wallet to help someone, we’re touching heaven."

Staton offers love as an antidote to hate on the bouncy, Motown-styled, “Love Breakthrough.”

Her publicist brought Aaron Frazer & the Flying Stars of Brooklyn NY’s 2017 cut “My God Has a Telephone” to Staton’s attention. She shifts the track from a retro 1960s groove to more of a 1980s Malaco Records arrangement, a subtle but distinct variation. Staton brought in her longtime friend and STAX Records legend, William Bell (“I Forgot to Be Your Lover” and “Trying to Love Two”), to add raspy seasoning to the track.

The album closes with the wistful, “In God’s Hands We Rest Untroubled,” that was originally written and recorded by the late country star, Lari White, who died in 2017 at the age of 52. “Lari sent me that song to consider at least ten years ago and I always loved it,” Staton says. “The record label didn’t want it on the album or something, so I just held it.”
Staton says, “I grew up hearing a lot of these old songs when they were new songs. I toured with the Jewel Gospel Trio in the 1950s and we got to know people like Mahalia Jackson, Sam Cooke and others who sang these types of songs. So, I’m sort of paying tribute to them and the influence they had on me by refreshing these songs and making new songs in the old style.”’

Another DINTE tape curated by cult WFMU show and blogger Bodega Pop; Gary Sullivan's long-running project rooted in a passion for digging for music in bodegas and cell-phone stores across NYC's boroughs. This edition focuses in on late 1990s and early 00s hip-hop & rnb from across Southeastern Asia.

"While on a work trip to Chicago in the mid-2000s, I was craving a bowl of pho. A bit of sleuthing led me to hop on the red line "L" up to Argyle Street, ground zero of Chicago's Little Saigon. In the 1960s, Chicago restaurateur Jimmy Wong invested in property on Argyle Street with a vision to build the city's new Chinatown, a kind of mall with pagodas, trees, and reflecting pools. In 1971, the Hip Sing Association, a labor/criminal organization, established itself in the area, and along with Wong, they bought up 80% of the buildings on a three-block stretch of the street. Wong reportedly broke both hips in an accident, leaving his dream to wither; in 1979, Charlie Soo of the Asian American Small Business Association brought it back to life.

Soo expanded the area into a vibrant mix of Chinese, Vietnamese, and other Southeast Asian businesses, pushing for renovations, including an Argyle station facelift and the Taste of Argyle festival. At the time I exited the station and crossed the street to get a better look at a shop with a poster for A Vertical Ray of the Sun in the window, the area was home to some 37,000 Vietnamese residents.

Opening the door, I was gobsmacked by a cavernous Southeast Asian media store, bigger than any I'd been to in Dallas, Montreal, New York, or Seattle. I spent some time at the bins, pulling out collections by some of my then-favorite singers — Giao Linh, Khánh Ly, Phương Dung — before approaching the register to ask the young woman behind the counter if the they carried any Vietnamese rap. It was a longshot, I knew, but if such a thing existed on physical media and anyone carried it, it would be this place.

'Have you heard Vietnamese rap?' she replied, her tone of voice and facial expression betraying a comically exaggerated level of distaste. I admitted my ignorance but assured her that I had long cultivated a high threshold for cheesy pop music of all kinds and genuinely tended to like hip hop from around the world.

She rolled her eyes and pointed to an area I had missed. I walked toward a far corner of the store and knelt over a small box on the floor sparsely populated with CDs, VCDs, and cassettes. I pulled out half a dozen Vietnamese hip hop compilations and a strange-looking CD with a cavalcade of odd typefaces in a queasy multitude of colors: THAILAND RAP HIT, it boasted, with 泰國 "燒香" 勁歌金曲 below it. The information on the back provided an address in Kuala Lumpur and the titles in Thai and English translation. The first track included three simplified Chinese characters after the English-language version of the title, "The Chinese Association": 自己人.

WTF was going on here? Walking back to the register, I waved the CD, asking "What's up with this one?" She gave me a look. I placed it on the counter so she could bask in the cover's full glory. She shrugged. "I'm guessing it's Thai rap?" She looked disappointed in me when I said I'd take it.

It turned out to be a Malaysian pressing of half-Chinese Thai hip hop artist Joey Boy's third album, Fun Fun Fun from 1996, and it completely changed my sense what the genre could sound like. The rapper's self-assured, effortless, silly-but-cool rapid-fire delivery weaved in and out of the most bizarre, antic beats I'd ever heard. The six Vietnamese hip hop CDs were a mixed bag, mostly "serious" sounding mimicry of US rapping over predictable production, but the highs were very high. When I got home and listened to it all, I made a point to find as much hip hop from this part of the world as I could.

The tracks collected here provide a limited but potent reflection of the two-decade ascendency
and ultimate world-takeover of hip hop, as it displaced rock and its endless variants for millions of listeners. This not a fair and balanced overview of regional production: I've only included tracks from Cambodia, Indonesia, Myanmar, Philippines, Thailand, and Vietnam. Nor is this a biggest or most important artists collection; instead, I've tried to recapture the pure visceral thrill of that first time I heard Joey Boy, choosing bangers that sound like nothing else, from nowhere else."

—Gary Sullivan

Open Space is proud to present our first ever full-length LP by LA’s newest 3-man band, Puli. Some words from our dear friend Matt McDermott below:

In recent years, a cadre of musicians from the east side of Los Angeles have reestablished the city of angels as the first city of Balearica. Alex Ho’s “Move Through It” followed in the lumbering footsteps of Project Sandro’s “Blazer.” Now, there’s a new landmark for the floating west coast sound. Swirling, the first album from LA supergroup Puli.

If you’ve got your ear to the ground you know the names involved here. Drummer and producer Damon Palermo’s pedigree stretches back a good 15 years or so, starting off with dub punks Mi Ami. Phil Cho is one of the busiest DJs, musicians and advocates for the deep stuff in LA, throwing legendary hillside parties under the Third Place banner. John Jones, the preternaturally talented guitarist and electronic tinkerer, records as AV Moves, is a key member of the Suzanne Kraft and Baba Stiltz live configurations and plays in The Trilogy Tapes-affiliated act Geo Rip.

But this listing of personnel and credentials puts too fine a point on it. Puli are three close friends who go to parties, DJ and get tacos together, repairing to their Chinatown studio a few times a week and coming out with remarkably textured, idiosyncratic downtempo jams. Building off the solid foundation of their 7-inch of heavyweight dubs for Melbourne’s Constant Delay, Swirling is an exploration of new horizons in chill out.

“Ramona” acts a statement of purpose—with halftime/double-time dub-tinged rhythms, hazy yet bright synth motifs and atmospheric guitar from Jones, not terribly far from the expansive approach of Japanese dub aesthetes Pecker. “Cloudy,” meanwhile, is a sort of deconstructed and bittersweet Balearic pop featuring Cho’s ethereal vocals. “Bongo Springs” is steppers’ house not far from close LA peer Benedek or the Mood Hut crew up north.

But what truly sets this record apart is the space and layers in the production—while it’s nominally an electronic record, Puli is a band that has slowly crafted these songs in the rehearsal space. “Havana Jam” cruises along a sliding roundwound bass guitar take with dubby chords and textural guitars. Palermo’s hand drums and live percussion enmesh perfectly with icy pads on “Leech Seed Dub.” Cho is back on the mic for the gorgeous closer, “C.S.B.”, underpinned by breakbeat and trunk-rattling sub bass. Puli doesn’t sound like anyone else, and is ultimately reflective of the city itself. Listening to Swirling feels like navigating a warren of side streets in the eternal sunshine. Take the drive and dive.

A full tank of gas, the gentle glow from the radio dial, & stretches of open highway await, Forever Gamblin’ On You meanders through miles of soulful AOR, funky folk, & dusty soft rock obscurities. A follow up to Sky Dust Drifter, this compilation was gleaned from American private press oddities & rarities of the 70s & 80s, all of which are seeing their first official reissues on this album. A celebration of love, rebirth, and exploration radiating like the warmth of a loved one from the passenger seat.

Featuring “Feeling The Fire”, a jazzy, AOR grooving declaration of love and desire taken from the sole release from The Mad Brother. The compilations’ title track “Forever Gamblin On You” by Petroc And Pals, features an echo-laden folk rock recollection of hard feelings delivered with swelling guitar in a mournful soft psychedelia. Angie Pepper’s “Miss You Too Much” dwells on a past love, rolling along with an effortlessly cool rhythm section, while Roy McComas croons of his manifested “angel of love” on the swirling psych folk rocker “Girl Of My Dreams”.

Forever Gamblin’ On You unfolds as a hopeful yet equally melancholic collection of nomadic anthems, primed for a memorable journey along the back roads of familiar American landscapes.

One day early in the global lockdown, Frédéric Blais scribbled four words on a Post-It note and pinned it up in his studio. When he headed to a studio in the mountains north of Montreal to start work on his fifth album as Fred Everything, those words went with him. They would not only provide inspiration during two weeks of isolated music-making, but ultimately provide the subsequent album with its title: Love, Care, Kindness and Hope.

Those sentiments – a positive mantra during a period of personal and collective vulnerability and isolation – resonate throughout the album, a gorgeously warm and beautiful affair that counts as Blais’s most personal, musically expansive, mature and sonically detailed set to date.

While each of the tracks began as a rough sketch laid down during Blais’ retreat, they evolved considerably over the months that followed. Blais reached out to a handful of carefully selected guest vocalists and collaborators, including Stereo MC’s, Robert Owens, Sapele, James Alexander Bright, Wayne Tennant, string arranger Pete Whitfield and multi-instrumentalist Finn Peters. He also lent his voice to several tracks, a first in a career that stretches back to the 1990s.

The results are magical, with Blais not only offering subtle variations on his own trademark deep house sound, but also nods to complimentary music styles and classic electronic albums from the late ‘90s and early 2000s.

Naturally, much focus will fall on the album’s high-profile guests, whose contributions work perfectly with Blais’ cultured dancefloor electronica and soul-soaked broken house grooves. Robert Owens – “the voice of house” himself – expertly delivers lyrics full of compassion and reassurance on recent single ‘Never’, Sapele infuses ‘A Long Time Coming’ with lashings of soulful spirituality, and UK hip-hop/soul legends Stereo MC’s make their presence felt on the subtly Latin-infused dub house excellence of ‘Soul Love’.

Then there’s ‘Breathe’, where UK singer-songwriter James Alexander Bright and backing vocalist Wayne Tennant rise above punchy broken house beats, Blais’ trademark square-wave bass and Pete Whitfield’s swelling strings on ‘Breathe’. By the time kaleidoscopic, sun-down breakbeat brilliance of ‘A Good Day’ arrives to draw proceedings to a close, you’ll be overflowing with Blais’ “love, care, kindness and hope” – just as he intended.

Long Beach legend Scotty Coats links the West Coast eclecticism of Stones Throw to the NYC cool of DFA and Rong to the Balearic gods of DJ Harvey et al. He personally introduced Be With to Ned Doheny 10 years ago and he was immortalised on Smith & Mudd's last LP. And he's the main man behind the mysteriously titled duo Todd Russell & The Dangerous Coats, alongside Erick "Todd" Coomes (Lettuce founder/bassist).

In very real danger of being lost forever, we unearthed two of their private recordings and present them as a double A-Side 12", adorned with S-T-U-N-N-I-N-G artwork, courtesy of Arizona artist Frank Gonzales.

"Playa Larga" is a melodic, mellow masterpiece and is quintessentially Balearic. It's stretched out, low slung, guitar-soaked drum-machine soul music. It's multi-layered and contains multitudes: it builds and builds and builds and mesmerises as it does so. On the flip, "1900 Ocean Avenue" is a super slo-mo, sunbaked drug-chug which is already blowing minds thanks to early leaks of this cosmic, psychedelic detonation.

On first listen back, Erick said to Scotty: “So wait, nothing really happens, I mean nothing bad happens but nothing really happens”. Apparently these tracks were a bit foreign for Erick, musically, because of the lack of structure in the songs.

One morning, years later, Erick called Scotty and excitedly declared: “dude, I get it now!”. He was listening to random music with a lady friend while watching the sunrise in his 1900 Ocean Ave apartment and "Playa Larga" came on randomly. He'd forgotten all about it and said he had to get up and see what song it was because "it was the perfect soundtrack for a psychedelic sunrise over the ocean."

And that's exactly how we came across it, circa 2018, randomly popping up on a playlist while we were busy doing other things. It stopped us in our tracks but, when trying to find any info on iTunes, we were out of luck. It was only years later that we worked out Scotty had sent it to us. Ever since, we've been working on getting this out to you all. It's finally time.

We've only 500 pressed for the world, with many of them spoken for by those lucky enough to be already ITK, so these are gonna fly: be warned!

Scotty is a world class raconteur so we'll hand over to him to explain how these songs came about and why they mean so much to him in the context of his wider raison d'être:

"These were made 13 years ago when I was a new dad and left my job at Ubiquity Records to provide security for my newborn son, Nolan Liam Chai Coats. I became miserable working a job outside of music for the first time in my life and I was laid off 4 months into it. I was left wondering how the fuck am I going to provide for my family?

I lived in Long Beach and Erick lived a few blocks away. I would walk to his house when Jen finally got Nolan to sleep so I could escape my panic, drink some beers (is it beerlearic?) and make some music. He lived overlooking the ocean with the Queen Mary on the horizon, so I guess mellow Long Beach nights unintentionally inspired the music. These songs were the first two songs we ever made and they embody the desperation and hope I really needed at that time. 12 years later, when Rob at Be With expressed an interest in releasing it, we had Erick's brother Tyler Tycoon Coomes play drums on it at Jazzcats Studio in LBC, with Jonny Bell.

Shortly after I was laid off, I discovered The Stepkids. I was blown away by "Shadows On Behalf" and sent it on to Gilles Peterson. He played it on Worldwide the next day. The Stepkids pulled me back into music and made me realize I wasn't prepared to do anything but be involved with music. After I heard their unreleased album, I knew there was something there so I sent it to my good friend Jamie Strong who was at Stones Throw at the time. Jamie passed it along to Peanut Butter Wolf and the band asked me to be their manager. I didn't think I was the right guy for the job but wanted to see them do well so I told them I would help shop their album. Jamie suggested I take his place at Stones Throw, just as he did when he left Ubiquity Records. I always joke that Jamie can call me Scotty Coat Tails because I had been riding his for years.

Wolf told him that "Scotty is a nice guy but has horrible taste in music", which was ironic because he was literally trying to sign the band that I brought him. The Stepkids signed with Stones Throw and found a real manager. 6 or so months later Jamie sent me a note saying "Stones Throw is hiring and you should apply lol". I told him I was going to send my resume and the subject of the email was to read I HAVE GREAT FUCKING TASTE IN MUSIC. I did just that and got a call the next day from their new GM asking me to come in for an interview. When I walked in I was in Wolf's office where I had been 6 months before, signing The Stepkids
deal. Wolf and Jason McGuire were asking me some questions and wanted to introduce me to Jeff Jank. Jank walked in and said "Isn't this the guy that Jamie wanted to bring on 6 months ago?" They confirmed and he threw his hands up and walked out saying "I've seen enough". I got the job. I worked there for 2 or 3 years until I left to join forces with Jamie Strong at his label and stayed there for almost 7 years."

Scotty wanted to use a painting by his good friend, Frank Gonzales, for the front cover image. Frank was incredibly generous in letting us use this one, and Scotty was completely honoured. We think you'll agree, it's pretty striking. Simon Francis carefully mastered the original audio for both tracks and Cicely Balston's precise cut for Alchemy at AIR Studios ensures this double A-side 12" sounds appropriately outstanding. The immaculate Record Industry pressing will ensure these previously unheard, recently discovered recordings finally get a chance to shine.

The new batch from the bottomless edit archives of Danny Krivit is an uptempo, guitar-heavy excursion into two cuts of danceable rock from opposite sides of a decade.

“Marbles” originally came out late in 1970, the result of a collaboration between the fiery British guitarist John McLaughlin and drummer Buddy Miles. Miles was hot off his time with Jimi Hendrix, and producer Alan Douglas, who’d been instrumental in putting together the Band of Gypsys group, attempted another crossover combination with a brand new, blazing guitar god. Also on the date was Larry Young, an organ player best known for his expansive jazzy albums on Blue Note, and several veterans of Buddy Miles’ funk-rock combos. The resulting mixture produced in “Marbles” a powerful, driving rhythm anchoring an addictive riff that steamrolls through the cut in a fashion not unlike the motorik sound of Velvet Underground or Can. Mr. K’s edit leans heavily on the drums, naturally, with a long, tailor-made intro and a mesmerizing focus on the main riff, extending things well past the seven-minute mark.

Ten years later, the world of music was in an entirely different place but a good guitar riff coupled with a driving beat was still powerful currency on the dancefloor. This time, the group was Scottish new wave-punk group APB, whose single “Shoot You Down” had garnered unexpected peak time play in cutting edge NYC hotspots Danceteria, the Peppermint Lounge, the Ritz and the Mudd Club. “Shoot You Down” combines the urgency of the Clash with the free for all vibe that characterized the downtown scene (and throws in a chant borrowed from P-Funk for good measure). Mr. K has created a long instrumental opening that leads into the vocals, giving the tightly-wound 7-inch single a proper extended 12-inch treatment it deserved but never had before.

The sound is crisply remastered for club play, and stretched over the breadth of a 12-inch single. Both of these tracks are appearing on the long-format player for the first time.

The Dubplate series comes to the label’s spiritual home of Hackney, the stomping ground of the Douglas “Dougie” Waldrop and his Conscious Sounds label with the spin off Dub meets Funk project. The music of the Dub Specialists is presented with extended re-edits by label owners Piers Harrison and Stuart “Chuggy” Leath, alongside rising selector star Millie McKee and studio master extraordinaire Matt Bruce (Vanity Project).

Formed in 1989, Conscious Sounds and the Conscious Music studio have been mainstays on the UK Digital Roots scene to this day, working with the likes Bush Chemists, Johan Dan, Kenny Knots and Pablo Gad. The Dub Specialists was a project created by Dougie to put aside studio sessions and explore a new interest in samplers, working with friend Chris Petter (Love Grocer) and his interest in Jazz and Funk.

Using the Atari 1040 running Cubase, with a Soundcraft mixer, drum loops and Reggae basslines were played over Funk samples and layered with Petter’s chords to create a series of short tracks for DJ play. Releasing 3 albums between 1995 and 1999 on the sub label Crispy Music, they have more recently been gaining cult status.

The tracks chosen all come from the first and increasingly sought after LP, Dub To Dub Break To Break and have been extended, stretched, looped and dubbed by the label family to form a club friendly EP. From the dance floor jams of Dub De Funk and Funkin’ Dub to the deeper Movin Ya (with additional flute by Millie) and Murderous Style, this is a unique fusion of Funk and Digidub that fits perfectly the ideals of the Dubplate Series.

Break The Mystery.

Strut Records highlights a landmark in British jazz-rock with Second Wind, the 1972 album from keyboard visionary Brian Auger and his powerhouse group Oblivion Express. Capturing a fully matured lineup, the record finds Auger expanding his fusion language - bridging jazz sophistication, funk-driven rhythm, and soul-infused songwriting with the clarity and fire that defined his early ’70s work.

Though Auger’s roots lie in the lineage of hard-swinging jazz organ and the improvisational fire of the ’60s British scene, he has never been an artist content with tradition. With Second Wind, he moves further into a hybrid language that fuses rhythm with harmonic depth and groove, without sacrificing sophistication. His playing is expansive yet precise, translating the electricity of live performance into a studio work that breathes with immediacy.

At the heart of this era of Oblivion Express is the telepathic rapport among its members. Vocalist Alex Ligertwood (in one of his earliest major recordings before Santana fame) brings a soulful intensity that feels both grounded and forward- looking. Second Wind contains tracks that have become deeply significant in Auger’s discography - original compositions Second Wind, and Truth to name a few - but it was Auger's high octane revisioning of Eddie Harris' Freedom Jazz Dance, (adding new lyrics to the original instrumental) that genuinely broke barriers. The track became a DJ friendly classic and highlighted the groups deeply original approach.

The rhythm section of Barry Dean and Robbie McIntosh balances weight and fluidity, giving Auger the space to stretch across Hammond organ, Rhodes, and keys with characteristic boldness. Their collective sound is one of seamless motion: jazz-inflected lines swelling into rock-driven crescendos, funk-leaning grooves locking with vocal hooks, moments of quiet clarity emerging between bursts of improvisation.

Second Wind stands as a pivotal moment in Auger’s discography: a record that bridges the exploratory spirit of his earlier projects with the more groove-oriented approach that would soon bring international attention. More than five decades later, it remains a vivid document of a band carving out its own language. Music born of instinct, collaboration, and a restless desire to push beyond the expected.

A warm breeze drifts through the open cabin of the boat, carrying the scent of salt and sunwarmed teak as it stirs the linen curtains. The man moves easily, bare feet against the wooden floor, the slow rhythm of the harbor rocking beneath him. He flips through his records with a knowing touch, pulling out a favorite—something smooth and mellow, with buttery vocals and melodies that drift like a sailboat on calm waters. The needle drops, and honeyed guitar riffs spill into the air, effortless and sunlit. He reaches for the bottle of rum, the ice in his glass chiming softly as he pours, then adds a squeeze of lime, a lazy stir. Outside, the water glows in the last light of day, golden ripples stretching toward the horizon. He leans back against the cushioned bench, drink in hand, the music swirling around him like the evening breeze—unhurried, weightless, exactly where he wants to be.


Small Talk brings together a carefully curated selection of long-forgotten, yet remarkably smooth and captivating soft rock and AOR tracks from the ‘70s and ‘80s, compiled by Brandon McMahon. These lesser-known songs are drenched in lush harmonies, dreamy guitar riffs, and mellow rhythms, capturing the essence of an era without the mainstream recognition. For those with an ear for the obscure and a taste for the subtle, Small Talk offers a fresh perspective on an era’s most overlooked gems.

With their EP triptych "Thee Church Ov Acid House Volume 1–3," Oliver Bradford and Jörn Elling Wuttke created a holy trinity of diverse dancefloor variations, a self-contained circle of rave history.

In itself already a heavyweight statement, which they now crowned with “Bells & Whistles - Thee Remixes”. So to speak the quadrature of the circle And as with their original material, this release also reveals a profound knowledge of dance history in the selection of remixers - combined with the best of the here and now.

A1:
The trip begins with Jamie Hodges' ( Born Under A Rhyming Planet ) version of “Acid House Planet”. Hodge was responsible for a number of legendary EPs on Richie Hawtin's Plus 8 label in the early 90s, which explored the deep poetry of techno music. In this sense his remix is also a delicate affair of rarely heard beauty.

A2:
There's Thee Church Ov Acid House themselves, who stretch the swinging groove of Tyson's “G Phunk”, far too short in the original, to almost six minutes. A groove that won't stop.

B1:
And that brings us to the next two legends, this time from the local area. D-Man and Move-D have had a significant influence on dancefloor culture between Heidelberg and Mannheim since its inception. Their lysergic “Theme” remix, with Terrence McKenna vocals and acid twist in the middle, is an epic open air classic to come.

B2:
Lennard Poschmann's aka O-Wells' version of “Rave Mantra”, on the other hand, is deep, digging bass techno for the darkest moments of the night.

Vinyl EP2 featuring remixes of Man Power, As One ( Kirk Degiorgio ), HRDVSION ( Nathan Jonson ), Cosmic Cars ( Pudel Produkte, Smallville, Bureau B )

"Amazing! Like stumbling on a treasure-trove of unheard Charlie Patton and Blind Willie McTell 78s, but imbued with the spirit of Mahlathini and Ladysmith." Joe Boyd

'But for this compilation of rescued songs masterfully restored from rare 78 rpm shellacs, few could imagine the diversely beautiful roots of Zulu Guitar Music emerging during the period 1950 – 1965. Story-tellers and master musicians appropriate outlaw personae, re-purpose country and western, Hawaiian and other styles, to stretch and challenge our notion of “the Zulu guitar”.

Twenty-five songs (18 on vinyl) plunge us into the depths of the migrant experience. Translations in the liner notes offer us glimpses of pugnacity, melancholy and heartache, all coloured by the paternalism that circumscribed the singers’ apartheid-dominated lives.

The early *mbaqanga* undertow in many of the songs subverts the wanderlust of Country and Western music into a fugitivity burdened by nostalgia. Something irretrievable has been lost, prompting a blending of ideas and cultures to make sense through thankless acts of musical divination. Inadvertently they have been thrust into the role of the antihero, where outwitting competition for lovers is as important as evading the Black Jacks (apartheid’s municipal cops) and their informants.

Considering the politically repressive period that this music emerges from, we can surmise that the specificity in the storytelling went a long way towards evading censure. But even when words are absent, there is a narrative arc suggested by the musical expression.

With most of the master tapes wilfully destroyed or lost, modern transcription and restoration techniques from the original shellac discs present the original sound most likely more clearly than ever heard before.'

Produced for reissue by Chris Albertyn and Matt Temple at Matsuli Music and Siemon Allen at Flatinternational.
Artwork design by Siemon Allen.
Liner note and translations by Kwanele Sosibo.
Audio restoration and lacquers by Frank Merritt at The Carvery and pressed at Pallas, Germany.
Original 78rpm recordings sourced from the collections of Chris Albertyn at Matsuli Music, and Siemon Allen at the Flatinternational Archive.

Listen to This.” As the original working title for Bitches Brew, the instruction and invitation remains to this day as the best way to approach a record that shattered conventions, altered music history, and, 55 years later, still sounds far ahead of its time. The template for jazz fusion, Bitches Brew is rightly ranked by virtually every significant outlet among the 100 greatest albums ever made. Sewn together with vibrant colors, voodoo textures, and ethereal moods, the 1970 landmark emerges with supreme detail and nonpareil feeling on Mobile Fidelity’s UltraDisc One-Step 180g 33RPM 2LP vinyl set.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, this definitive-sounding 55th anniversary reissue enhances every element of a double album that established new possibilities for studio recording techniques. You’ll hear wide and deep soundstages, separation between instruments, and an extremely broad dynamic range. If ever a jazz album can be said to have gone to outer space and back, this is it.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, this definitive-sounding 55th anniversary reissue enhances every element of a double album that established new possibilities for studio recording techniques. You’ll hear wide and deep soundstages, separation between instruments, and an extremely broad dynamic range. If ever a jazz album can be said to have gone to outer space and back, this is it.

Davis conceived Bitches Brew by having the musicians stand in a semi-circle. There, he pointed at them with vague directions for tempo, solos, and cues. The collective improvisation and interplay spawned a galaxy of melodies and grooves that were later spliced together by producer Ted Macero. Benefitting from the ultra-low noise floor and superb groove definition of this pressing, these distinct creations take shape with utmost realism. Compositions stretch across jet-black backgrounds and paint canvases laden with millions of colors and shades. Juxtaposed percussion, loose jams, and melodic segues explode with impressionistic verve.

Bitches Brew also boasts visionary artwork. By design, the lavish packaging and gorgeous presentation of the UD1S Bitches Brew set call attention to such matters. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. It is made for discerning listeners who desire to fully immerse themselves in everything surrounding the album, from the images to the tones. And this is one effort where every last detail matters.

Gathering a Hall of Fame-worthy lineup of musicians and tweaking it according to his desires, Davis follows through on his idea to “put together the greatest rock and roll band you ever heard.” Central to his proposition is the presence of two (and sometimes three) drummers and two bassists, a tactical move that makes rhythms a central focus. Akin to the futuristic album cover art, the drum-driven suites head toward distant universes and uncharted territories. At once hypnotizing and grooving, they chart maverick adventures via quixotic rock, funk, and R&B elements.

A without-a-net experiment involving interchangeable double-quintet lineups, Bitches Brew explores the previously unimaginable with electrified instruments — Fender Rhodes piano, processed trumpet, dissonant guitars, and bass among them — and an emphasis on feeling over composition. Mesmerizing and soothing, jarring and smooth, overt and subtle: The music seemingly covers an entire map of emotions and sensations, and like no record before, ties together the groundbreaking creativity of the multiple disciplines that were changing popular culture at the end of the 1960s and dawn of a new decade.

Conceptually, Davis described Bitches Brew as “a novel without words” and “an incredible journey of pain, joy, sorrow, hate, passion, and love.” The vast psychedelic expanses of warped echoes, liquid reverb, and tape loops confirm such ambitious contrasts of light and dark, fear and hope. Yet the most absolute characteristic of the watershed effort lies in how it resists definitive interpretation and encourages free thought — the very principles Davis used to conceive Bitches Brew.

More About Mobile Fidelity UltraDisc One-Step and Why It Is Superior
Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab’s UltraDisc One-Step (UD1S) technique bypasses generational losses inherent to the traditional three-step plating process by removing two steps: the production of father and mother plates, which are created to yield numerous stampers from each lacquer that is cut. For UD1S plating, stampers (also called “converts”) are made directly from the lacquers. Since each lacquer yields only one stamper, multiple lacquers need to be cut. Mobile Fidelity's UD1S process produces a final LP with the lowest-possible noise floor. The removal of two steps of the plating process also reveals musical details and dynamics that would otherwise be lost due to the standard multi-step process. With UD1S, every aspect of vinyl production is optimized to produce the best-sounding vinyl album available today.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

When Creed Taylor was setting up his CTI label one of his proposed signings was Billy Vera. This led to a deal for Vera’s younger sister Kathy McCord. In fact, McCord was the first artist signed and recorded by CTI. Her debut, “Kathy McCord” was released in 1970.

Although the label would go on to establish a fine reputation in jazz, “Kathy McCord” was a folk rock album. A gifted young poet the 17-year old McCord wrote many of the tracks on the album which were then interpreted in the studio by a crack team of jazz musicians that included Harvey Brooks (bass), Hubert Laws (flute), John Hall (guitar) and Wells Kelly and Ed Shaugnessy (drums). Musically and lyrically both the musicians and McCord stretched out on tracks like ‘Rainbow Ride’, ‘Jennipher’, ‘Candle Waxing’ and ‘Take Away This Pain’ to conjure up an amazing fusion of folk and jazz. The only cover on show was a version of Lennon and McCartney’s ‘She’s Leaving Home’ which McCord repurposed as ‘I’m Leaving Home’.

Upon release the album sold poorly. Creed’s expertise and contacts were in the jazz field and he had no idea how to market an album of folk jazz songs sung with fragile beauty by a good looking girl still in her late teenage years. Also, when Billy Vera did not sign to CTI McCord was dropped.

Over time “Kathy McCord” attracted a dedicated following amongst folk-rock collectors in America and the UK. In many respects it was an echo of something like Deena Webster’s 1968 folk rock LP, “Tuesday’s Child” that also came, went and is now sought after.

Ace are delighted to give the world the first vinyl reissue of “Kathy McCord” since 1970. Pressed on black 180gm vinyl it also includes liner notes from Billy Vera - who has this to say about his late beloved sister: “My sister had the goods. She could sing, she could write and she looked great. Like so many other talented people, she just failed to get lucky. Listen and enjoy her. I love her stuff”. You will too...

Efficient Space honours the memory of producer and MC Ali Omar with Hashish Hits, a posthumous selection from the dub rebel’s self-released discography.

One of ten children in working-class Liverpool, Omar drew deep influence from his father's Arabic heritage—a thread central to his identity and sample origins. After art school and a spell clubbing during Manchester's halcyon days, he relocated to Sydney, where he cofounded the blunted downbeat duo Atone with fellow British expatriate Andy Fitzgerald. As an MC, he infiltrated the city’s house, dub, jungle, and bass circuits, becoming a regular fixture at the Bentley Bar, where he commanded the mic with his versatile, rumbling baritone and charisma.

Freakishly talented in the studio, Omar was a pioneer of the Akai sampler and Atari, deftly recording live sessions straight to DAT. Drawing on industry insights from his sister, Merseybeat firebrand Beryl Marsden—who supported The Beatles on their final UK tour and was signed to Decca and Columbia—the non-conformist sought to build a self-sufficient business model. Between 1998 and 2004, he independently issued four albums on CD through his Hashish Studios imprint, hustling copies directly to local record stores and live shows for instant returns, even hand-sewing screen-printed hessian sleeves for his final release.

Uncompromising in his principles and refusing to suffer fools or charlatans, Omar relished the opportunity to collaborate with those who embodied the same spirit. Hashish Hits offers a snapshot of his inner sanctum—Fitzgerald on the opening track's billowing smoke stacks, the serpentine vocals of Gina Mitchell and the magic hands of mixer Louis Mitchell on 'On Release,' and Wicked Beat Sound System’s Kye on 'Poor Man Beggar Man Thief'. Meanwhile, 'Suicide Bomber' smoulders with the tension of a lost Muslimgauze relic, as the instructional 'Roll Up' and 'The Last Straw' spiral deeper into Omar’s signature production vortex— where space stretches in slow motion and walls reverberate with ricocheting delay.

A true icon of Sydney’s underground scene, the larger-than-life Omar passed away on 23 June 2009 after a valiant battle with cancer. He is remembered for his assertive spirit, larrikin humour, wild anarchic personality, and enduring mantra: “Love and live your life”.1

Unbound by place or genre, mercurial, experimental pop duo Soft as Snow find freedom to intuitively reflect the disarray of human connection with their intricate, shape-shifting pop production. With each successive release, the duo evolves, unfurling into their own poetic sound, now fully realized on their intimate, third full-length, Metal.wet.

The oft-present trappings of male-female duos are eschewed here as the Berlin-based Oda Starheim and Øystein Monsen contribute equally across a canvas of analogue synthesizers, samplers, live drums, and processed guitars. At once a part of and yet apart from the zeitgeist, their forward-thinking modernity stretches the limits of expectations across Metal.wet's ten insouciant tracks. Fans of Tirzah, Hype Williams, and even Angelo Badalamenti will find much to love in this haunting work peppered with ASMR moments and rough sampling wrapped in high production –– twinkling glasses and sirens in the distance, rhythms and voices up front. The result is synth-driven, noisy, and dripping with laidback, confident sensuality.

Although Starheim's voice begins the album in a whisper, it quickly becomes apparent that the group has jettisoned their previous tendency to bury and distort her vocals. Nested in a bed of thorny electronics and broken rhythms, her multifaceted vocals might bring to mind Kazu Makino of Blonde Redhead or Hope Sandoval fronting Massive Attack. London MC Brother May (Mica Levi, CURL) makes an appearance on the driving and ethereal “Whip,” while Øystein’s own voice appears for the first time in a state of languid background haze.

Soft as Snow create and record across Europe. Defiantly averse to genre, the pair become vessels for their “electronic music pushed to the brink of collapse” (The Wire), previously released by Infinite Machine and Houndstooth. Informed by backgrounds in film and performance art, “there’s a surrealism that comes with watching Soft as Snow in the flesh,” (Vice) as seen at L.E.V. and Lunchmeat Festivals. Collaborations with visual artist Guynoid, designer AGF Hydra, and sculptor Camilla Steinum add depth to the corporeality of their “strange, mesmerising and utterly unforgettable” electronic experimentations. (DJ Mag).

Charlie Parker had a complicated relationship with his hometown of Kansas City, MO owing both to its history of racial segregation and to his strong ties to his family and friends there. This new set of rare recordings dating from 1941–1951 — most of them never having been heard before and some never even having been known to exist — chronicle Bird’s evolution from a blossoming soloist with the Jay McShann Band into a brilliant improviser who dominated the jazz landscape for decades to come. In addition to two unreleased 78s with the McShann band, this set offers two sets of private recordings (at the home of Bird’s friend Phil Baxter and at Vic Damon’s studio) made with local musicians and a very relaxed-sounding Parker who has the room to really stretch out and show us the shape of jazz that was to come in his wake.

Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time is a portal into somatic chiaroscuro, aglow with the embers of imperfect memories and smudged with the plumes of internal echoes, which augment in vast, mercurial dimensions. For his third album on RVNG Intl., the British cellist, composer and producer offers a capsule of personal resonance and remembrance, assembled over the past six years. Throb, shiver, arrow of time traces the familiar metallic anatomy and viscous string modulations of his 2020 release skins n slime, while recentering his inner compulsions following a procession of lauded score writing projects, including the films Aftersun (Charlotte Wells, 2022), The Stranger (Thomas M Wright, 2022) and Occupied City (Steve McQueen, 2023). While working on Aftersun, Wells asked Coates how music could signal that someone is going on a trawl through their memory_a question that has stayed with him ever since and fosters a heartbeat running through the record. Throb, shiver, arrow of time is "all about inaccurate transmissions from our memories, overlaid with emotions from other sources," says Coates. The release is imbued with the ache and glow of recollections mulched together, where the guttural dissonance of misremembering is shrouded by strange orbs of sentiment. At the record's inner core is "Shopping centre curfew," a swift yet cavernous track that emerged five years ago when two real world events, both occurring in South London during the pandemic lockdowns, became fused in a dream: the demolition of Elephant and Castle shopping center, and the discussion of a curfew as a real possibility for all men following a violent crime. A strange simultaneity occurred with this piece of music and Coates built the album out from there, a sense of temporal entropy refracting shimmers of lurking convulsions into lucid sonic topologies. The ten compositions of Throb, shiver, arrow of time find weightless melodies soaring across after-image gradients, magnified and compressed. Misted tones within "Please be normal" and "90" soften drone-soaked shudders of inner acoustics messing up. Vocal invocations appear from long-term collaborators Malibu and chrysanthemum bear, as well as drifting synth radiance from Faten Kanaan. Throb, shiver, arrow of time furthers Coates' reach in collapsing the digital into the analogue and vice versa, allowing serendipity to reorganize the material and push out against the confines of flatness. This sculptural approach to sound is deeply influenced by the intricate installations of artist Sarah Sze, whose permutations of visual matter with its own after-image form kaleidoscopic epitaphs for ephemera and emotion. Coates' thinking about Sze's work and processes flowed together with his own playing and editing techniques, superimposing the textural relief of a live take back into a composition, and allowing the sound to succumb to a dream of itself. As Coates expands, "The cello is a kind of melancholic instrument with a light ethereal spirit. When the sound is flattened into digital processes, with shifted frequencies and time stretching I'm trying to give it even more of those qualities. Sometimes I'm distancing myself from it, so it becomes a piece of discarded debris that has soul in it, a down-sampling. Or other times, it's trying to maximize the present tense in the act of playing, and collapse that vivid color into a burnished, photocopied kind of sound. So the music acts like weather, weathering the listener, or as flames licking at the sides of objects." As the record unfurls, the compositions swell in duration, until the granular glimmers of its finale "Make it happen" persist in almost violent delight. "There's a feeling of not wanting to let this album go, trying to defy the extinguishing sound at the end of the music, trying to push the colors beyond the confines of the structure, to defeat the silence." In the scramble to resist denouement, Coates suspends the arrow of time in its eternal flight, just for a moment, to reveal the solace of the dust settling in the afterglow. Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time will be released on vinyl, Japanese import CD, and digital editions on October 18, 2024. On behalf of Oliver and RVNG Intl., a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit The Traditional Music and Song Association of Scotland, an organization fostering opportunities for people of all ages to participate in the traditional music and culture of Scotland.

‘What makes Sex Swing so powerful is that they transcend the limitations of rock music. Their sound is so full of possibilities, violence, sexuality, sacrifice, even religion. If there was a future to look forward to for heavy guitar music, this is it’ The Quietus The locals call it Sop Ruak – eighty thousand square miles of mountains and mystery and unholy medicine. “It really is an endless seam of activity,” Sex Swing frontman Dan Chandler explains of Golden Triangle – both the title of their new album and the region between Myanmar, Thailand and Laos that inspired it. To know this contradictory corner of the world is to understand fully why the cult-beloved noise-rock artisans turned to it when writing their hotly-anticipated third full-length. The real-life Golden Triangle is a groundswell of both natural wonder and drug production, and who combines beauty and narcotic brutality better than Sex Swing? For a decade now, this
collective of revered UK underground musicians, comprising members of Earth, Mugstar, The Keep and Jaaw, have been pulling audiences into drug- like slipstreams with their alchemy of pummelling rhythms, towering guitars, and unrelenting saxophone through which glimmers of light occasionally pierce through. No wonder their Golden Triangle is an album telling distortion-shrouded tales from one of the most storied, enigmatic places on the planet, with enough invention within to fill eighty thousand miles and more.
Where does this violent, hypnotic aural travelogue take you within the Sop Ruak? The seven tracks that make up The Golden Triangle see the band – completed by bassist Jason Stoll, drummer Stuart Bell, guitarist Jodie Cox, synthesist/guitarist Oli Knowles and saxophonist Colin Webster – adventure first to ‘The Confluence of the Ruak and Mekong Rivers,’ full of shimmering orchestration and feather-light ambience. Then come stops in ‘Myawaddy’, named after a small town embroiled in bloodshed on the border of Myanmar
and Thailand, and ‘Boten, Route 13’ – sparked by stories of a seemingly endless stretch of road from Laos into China. Before long, listeners are plunged into ‘Hpakant’, one of the album’s most invigorating and singular moments, lyrically inspired by a jade mine in Myanmar, where the spoils of forced labour are exchanged for prostitution and methanphetamine. The result is a mesmerising slow-burn of sax, snaking rhythms and sinister spoken word courtesy of the Scottish-born Bruce McClure, who “took the theme and turned it into a sci-fi story of exploitation and vice,” explains the frontman. It’s a track that, like the rest of Golden Triangle, underlines the evolution Sex Swing have undertaken since forming in 2014. From the raw and primitive sounds of the self-titled debut full-length, followed up by the coruscatingType II in 2020. Sex Swing’s third effort retains those early primitive elements and adds layers of structure and complexity. Golden Triangle initial formation was that of programmed beats and bedroom recordings shared electronically in the height of the pandemic. Those ideas were then completed during intensive writing sessions at a secluded farm in Oxfordshire.
Album credits consist of recording by Stanley Gravett at Holy Mountain Studios in Hackney, mixing by Wayne Adams at Bear Bites Horse, mastering from James Plotkin, and the continued aesthetic collaboration with artist Alex Bunn. Golden Triangle bristles with a rawness familiar to fans of the British sonic punishers, but adds new elements indicative of a group never resting on their laurels or sitting in one place. Why would they, after all? There’s an entire world of mountains and mystery and unholy medicine out there to be explored. The Golden Triangle, it seems, is just the beginning.

‘What makes Sex Swing so powerful is that they transcend the limitations of rock music. Their sound is so full of possibilities, violence, sexuality, sacrifice, even religion. If there was a future to look forward to for heavy guitar music, this is it’ The Quietus The locals call it Sop Ruak – eighty thousand square miles of mountains and mystery and unholy medicine. “It really is an endless seam of activity,” Sex Swing frontman Dan Chandler explains of Golden Triangle – both the title of their new album and the region between Myanmar, Thailand and Laos that inspired it. To know this contradictory corner of the world is to understand fully why the cult-beloved noise-rock artisans turned to it when writing their hotly-anticipated third full-length. The real-life Golden Triangle is a groundswell of both natural wonder and drug production, and who combines beauty and narcotic brutality better than Sex Swing? For a decade now, this
collective of revered UK underground musicians, comprising members of Earth, Mugstar, The Keep and Jaaw, have been pulling audiences into drug- like slipstreams with their alchemy of pummelling rhythms, towering guitars, and unrelenting saxophone through which glimmers of light occasionally pierce through. No wonder their Golden Triangle is an album telling distortion-shrouded tales from one of the most storied, enigmatic places on the planet, with enough invention within to fill eighty thousand miles and more.
Where does this violent, hypnotic aural travelogue take you within the Sop Ruak? The seven tracks that make up The Golden Triangle see the band – completed by bassist Jason Stoll, drummer Stuart Bell, guitarist Jodie Cox, synthesist/guitarist Oli Knowles and saxophonist Colin Webster – adventure first to ‘The Confluence of the Ruak and Mekong Rivers,’ full of shimmering orchestration and feather-light ambience. Then come stops in ‘Myawaddy’, named after a small town embroiled in bloodshed on the border of Myanmar
and Thailand, and ‘Boten, Route 13’ – sparked by stories of a seemingly endless stretch of road from Laos into China. Before long, listeners are plunged into ‘Hpakant’, one of the album’s most invigorating and singular moments, lyrically inspired by a jade mine in Myanmar, where the spoils of forced labour are exchanged for prostitution and methanphetamine. The result is a mesmerising slow-burn of sax, snaking rhythms and sinister spoken word courtesy of the Scottish-born Bruce McClure, who “took the theme and turned it into a sci-fi story of exploitation and vice,” explains the frontman. It’s a track that, like the rest of Golden Triangle, underlines the evolution Sex Swing have undertaken since forming in 2014. From the raw and primitive sounds of the self-titled debut full-length, followed up by the coruscatingType II in 2020. Sex Swing’s third effort retains those early primitive elements and adds layers of structure and complexity. Golden Triangle initial formation was that of programmed beats and bedroom recordings shared electronically in the height of the pandemic. Those ideas were then completed during intensive writing sessions at a secluded farm in Oxfordshire.
Album credits consist of recording by Stanley Gravett at Holy Mountain Studios in Hackney, mixing by Wayne Adams at Bear Bites Horse, mastering from James Plotkin, and the continued aesthetic collaboration with artist Alex Bunn. Golden Triangle bristles with a rawness familiar to fans of the British sonic punishers, but adds new elements indicative of a group never resting on their laurels or sitting in one place. Why would they, after all? There’s an entire world of mountains and mystery and unholy medicine out there to be explored. The Golden Triangle, it seems, is just the beginning.

Eight years since the breathtaking Somewhere Anywhere EP, The Mad Walls return to re-ignite psych rock with this gorgeous, floatily heavy, effortlessly groovy and sublimely sinuous debut LP. Driven by bone shaking acoustic guitar, visceral drums, wonderfully trippy basslines and the throwaway perfection of Christopher Mercado’s spooked vocals. Pure rock n’ roll yet devoid of cliché. Informed by, but no way in hock to, early MC5, Skip Spence, Sonic Youth, Syd Barrett and Jefferson Airplane when they still all lived together.
Recorded on tape in Mercado’s garage, there’s a DIY heart with epic results across sixteen songs. Only one track over three minutes and some under thirty seconds. “It’s just chatter about life and human feelings. Stylized human expression”. - Is Christopher's self effacing explanation of his mind bending, playful, storytelling. It opens with the walloping drum canter/bass attack of WHO WANTS TO DIE FOR RELIGION. Passes through the furious distorted acoustic guitar solo on I TELL YOU HOW I FEEL. The woozy, elastic time-stretching of COOL TRIPPER. The brief, funky lurch of IN YOUR DREAM YOU ARE NO ONE. The almost lush, cinematic SEVEN DAYS which conjures Serge Gainsbourg by way of Moby Grape. HIP COMMA’s floaty strut and the groovy raga of MAKA THE NATIVE, which has not one but two ‘breath solos’. CLOUDS OF DUST is a skeletal Krautrock fragment and THERE ONLY IS a luminous psych-pop single. Final track APPLES ends the album with a sinewy twelve bar blues and a killer psych guitar break. Bliss.
Somehow the MAD WALLS manage woozily florid and sharp as a blade. Studiedly detailed but effortless. Whip smart and dumb. And as we said at the start - just gorgeous…

Eight years since the breathtaking Somewhere Anywhere EP, The Mad Walls return to re-ignite psych rock with this gorgeous, floatily heavy, effortlessly groovy and sublimely sinuous debut LP. Driven by bone shaking acoustic guitar, visceral drums, wonderfully trippy basslines and the throwaway perfection of Christopher Mercado’s spooked vocals. Pure rock n’ roll yet devoid of cliché. Informed by, but no way in hock to, early MC5, Skip Spence, Sonic Youth, Syd Barrett and Jefferson Airplane when they still all lived together.
Recorded on tape in Mercado’s garage, there’s a DIY heart with epic results across sixteen songs. Only one track over three minutes and some under thirty seconds. “It’s just chatter about life and human feelings. Stylized human expression”. - Is Christopher's self effacing explanation of his mind bending, playful, storytelling. It opens with the walloping drum canter/bass attack of WHO WANTS TO DIE FOR RELIGION. Passes through the furious distorted acoustic guitar solo on I TELL YOU HOW I FEEL. The woozy, elastic time-stretching of COOL TRIPPER. The brief, funky lurch of IN YOUR DREAM YOU ARE NO ONE. The almost lush, cinematic SEVEN DAYS which conjures Serge Gainsbourg by way of Moby Grape. HIP COMMA’s floaty strut and the groovy raga of MAKA THE NATIVE, which has not one but two ‘breath solos’. CLOUDS OF DUST is a skeletal Krautrock fragment and THERE ONLY IS a luminous psych-pop single. Final track APPLES ends the album with a sinewy twelve bar blues and a killer psych guitar break. Bliss.
Somehow the MAD WALLS manage woozily florid and sharp as a blade. Studiedly detailed but effortless. Whip smart and dumb. And as we said at the start - just gorgeous…

China Crisis is a band that has attracted critical acclaim and chart success over the course of a career stretching back well over 30 years. All tracks recorded at The Paul McCartney Auditorium, Liverpool Institute of Performing Arts, 16th September 2005. Except 'You Did Cut Me', recorded in 2003 during 'An Audience With'. This China Crisis release containing nine chart sigles, is pressed on Yellow vinyl incl. a 18 track bonus CD of the full concert, and includes insert with sleeve notes.

'Quintela', the debut album by Carme López, a performer, teacher and researcher of traditional oral music from Galicia, is a new experimental work for Galician bagpipe. Influenced by the approach of composers like Éliane Radigue or Pauline Oliveros, the Spanish composer creates slowly modulating sound environments, and stretches the sonic the possibilities of the bagpipe to its absolute limit. 'Quintela' is structured in four movements, plus a prologue and an epilogue, which serve as a link to the contemporary language of the instrument.

The bagpipe is strongly tied to traditional musics; its use in different genres and musical contexts is extremely limited and unimaginative. 'Quintela' brings it to a wholly unknown field, decontextualising the bagpipe in order to elevate a personal approach, and leaving behind its male-dominated past (in which it relates to ideas of prestige, dominance or carries even sexual connotations). López expertly demonstrates its grandeur and breadth; the music on 'Quintela' ranges from barely audible sounds of air passing through the hide bag through rhythmical use of its reeds to all-encompassing drones with complex harmonic structures and vibrant overtones.

The narrative arc focuses on the composer's past, its people and places, and could be conceived as a journey in and of itself. A homage to those in our memories, but also a step into the unknown, 'Quintela' is an ambitious, graceful and captivating debut.

First time released on Vinyl. Unheard since 2007. Artwork by Maliq Griffin aka DJ Porno (Tame’s long-time collaborator and friend.)
An unreleased Stretch Armstrong HOT 97 freestyle ft. Redman and Rah Digga. Remastered production by Shape, Mishap, and others.
We’re honoured to reissue an album by a truly unique voice in hip hop and dearly missed friend, Tame One. The year is 2007, Fresh off collaborations with the likes of El-P, Cage, and The Weathermen, Tame One - one half of the Newark duo The Artifacts, was approached by a Montclair skateboard shop Division East, as he personified their East Coast new school culture of skating, graffiti, and MCing. This relationship gave way to Division East Records and their first full length release entitled "The Grudge." Despite its merits and the efforts of those involved, the album went largely unheard outside of NJ hip-hop circles. Call it a casualty of the post-CD/pre-streaming musical landscape of the early 00’s. Now, 17 years later and almost 2 years after his heartbreaking transition, issued for the time on purple vinyl, Tame One’s The Grudge

Handpicked by Paul himself, Will of The People is a carefully curated collection of 31 tracks from Weller’s extensive cornucopia of tunes that never quite made it to one of his 9 studio albums since 2002. Here is a collection which reminds us that there has always been a parallel narrative to the main recorded output of Paul’s albums and singles. The B-Side, and the remix, is a space in which to explore, experiment, or to flex a different set of artistic muscles.
The story begins back in the autumn of 2003, when the Fly On The Wall 3LP & 3CD collection brought together a wealth of Paul Weller solo recordings that stretched back to 1991. The B-sides, 12” EP tracks, single remixes and ‘live’ recordings featured all had one thing in common, namely that they hadn’t been included on any of his hugely successful solo albums. Furthermore, in many instances, they’d become highly sought after in their original formats and were fetching significant sums from fans and collectors. Will Of The People follows up Fly On The Wall and takes the listener through a similar mix of rarities, this time spanning the period 2002 to 2021.
From covers to eclectic remixes, Will Of The People delivers a scintillating array of songs which skirt across many genres. Here you will find such gems as Paul’s cover of The Beatle’s “Birthday”, released to celebrate Macca’s 70th, and the sparkling disco-ball banger remix of Cosmic Fringes by none other than the Pet Shop Boys. It also includes Paul’s first foray into film soundtracks with the sublime “Ballad Of Jimmy McCabe” from the film Jawbone. Scattered across the tracks are appearances from the likes of Primal Scream, Simon Tong & Graham Coxon.
Will Of The People is released on triple vinyl and 3CD. The album features sleeve notes written by writer and broadcaster John Wilson.

FRN Dancehall might have emerged in Jamaica, but over the last few decades the popular genre's tendrils have stretched out across the globe. In Kampala, Ratigan Era is adding a distinct Ugandan twist to dancehall, fusing it with East African humor and hyper-melodic afrobeats elements imported from Ghana and Nigeria. The versatile MC grew up listening to Jamaican music like Vybz Kartel, Busy Signal and Mavado - in his hometown of Kawempe there was almost no way to avoid it - and it blurred into the background, blending with local church music, US hip-hop and radio pop. He developed this diverse range of influences into a completely unique Afro-dancehall flow that simmers between Luganda, patois, Spanish and English, reflecting the melting pot of cultures and dialects that characterizes contemporary Africa. Ratigan broke out with a memorable feature on Pallaso's Ugandan hit 'Nsaba', a track that echoed throughout the country booming from nightclubs, motorcycle loudspeakers or from convenience stores. Now he's assembled his first album "Era", a furiously inventive interweaving of rubbery vocals and memorable chants backed by futuristic beats from Hakuna Kulala's most boundary-pushing producers. Congolese producer Chrisman takes the reins on 'Gorilla Attack', providing a downtempo groove that echoes recent Jamaican chop deployments from breakthrough artists like Skillibeng and Skeng. For his part, Ratigan ducks and dives between Chrisman's gqom-inspired low end womps and corrosive synths, commanding attention with his smart, dextrous flow and tongue-twisting lyrics.The Modern Institute and Golden Teacher's Richard McMaster handles 'Top Strike Force' leaving space in his wiry, minimal beats for Ratigan to flit between anthemic repetitions and ice-cold AutoTuned wails. On stand-out track 'Badman Style', Ratigan's guttural patois is measured against a dizzy trap-dancehall hybrid beat from HHY & The Kampala Unit's Jonathan Uliel Saldanha, aka Lithium Beats, while on the surreal 'Drop it Down', Japanese mad scientist Scotch Rolex brings out Ratigan's cheeky sense of humor with toytown bleeps and laser zaps. MC Yallah collaborator Debmaster appears on 'Gan Dem', meeting Ratigan's double-time raps with soundsystem destroying rolling subs, and veteran US noisemaker Kush Aurora sprinkles magic dust on 'Cool and Deadly', galvanizing the link between global bass mutations, Jamaica and East Africa.And despite the grab-bag of producers and inspirations, "Ratigan" is a strikingly coherent listening experience that accurately snapshots Kampala's colorful froth of sounds and phrases. Ratigan's outsized personality is welcoming and captivating, providing the sights, sounds and smells of the city with a frenetic rhythm that's as intimate and local as it is far-reaching. It might just be the future we so desperately need.

Alternative pop duo, YOVA release their brand new album ‘Dreamcatchers’ on 1st March 2024. Featuring nine tracks the album was written over a nine year period stretching from the duo’s inception in 2014 through to 2022. The album was recorded and mixed 2021-23 between home studios in Dorset and London. Discussing the themes behind the record YOVA explain: “The lyrics of the songs delve deeply into our lost and unrealised dreams and ideals, whether from a personal perspective or within a more global context. The tracks relate to how our dreams are caught then nurtured, realised, abandoned or destroyed. This can apply to our personal lives, but it equally informs our helplessness and on-going quest for self-identity at a time of deep geopolitical and ecological uncertainty.” Produced by YOVA in collaboration with Rob Ellis, Alex Thomas and Martin McDougall, the record features the duo’s earlier singles “Dreamcatchers”, “Hurt Like No Hurt” and “Feel Your Fear” alongside six brand-new tracks. YOVA assembled a collective of like-minded musicians to create the sonic tapestry of Dreamcatchers including Terry Edwards (NIck Cave, Gallon Drunk, The Jesus & Mary Chain), James Sedwards (The Thurston Moore Group/ And This Is Not This Heat), Rob Ellis ( PJ Harvey, Marianne Faithfull), Daniel O’Sullivan ( Grumbling Fur, Tim Burgess), and Alex Thomas (John Cale, Anna Calvi). YOVA are Jova Radevska and Mark Vernon. With Vernon a seasoned veteran of the alternative music scene who has managed and recorded with John Cale and co-produced tracks on PJ Harvey’s debut album ‘Dry’, a chance encounter with Macedonian vocalist and songwriter Jova paved the way for their bewitching collaborative project. Their debut album ‘Nine Lives’ was released in late 2021 to praise from the likes of Louder Than War, Electronic Sound and MOJO, with the latter hailing the album as “a beguiling debut from a duo of sonic adventurers” in their four star review