Cerca:meaning of tales

Somewhere between Simon & Garfunkel and the Kings of Convenience, Meaning of Tales bring benevolent and empathetic music in their own style.

Music that will evoke memories of youth for some, without any nostalgia but with infinite tenderness, and will teleport others to nature at sunset. Music that proves Aristotle right: so much will it soften our morals and delight our hearts.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

A“This album is about what it means to be human, and its creation is my offering. I attempt to tell a tale of the human experience in the reflection of my own.”

‘In the Andean mythology, condors are believed to be immortal. It is said that once they feel old, without energy, and useless, they climb to the highest peak and let themselves fall to death.’

The Allegorist is a visionary, enigmatic, transmedia, and boundary-pushing artist known for crafting deep, immersive dark sonic tales. Embracing a wide array of influences, weaving together the mysteries, art and spirituality, the art project defies categorisation, resonating with those who seek the unconventional.

From Birth Until Death is an introspective and immersive concept album that reflects on the essence of the human experience. Crafted over six years by The Allegorist (aka Anna Jordan), the album traces the arc of life—from its fragile beginnings to its inevitable end—using sound art to explore existential and philosophical terrain. Inspired by the Andean mythology of the condor – a symbol of immortality – the album blends electronic soundscapes with raw field recordings, evoking a deep sense of connection between the natural world and human existence.

The album’s progression mirrors the stages of life, starting with the birth of new beginnings and culminating in death, with each track offering a unique reflection on the moments in between. From the dynamic energy of Momentum, to the ethereal, illusionary world of Fata Morgana, the tracks guide the listener through emotions, perceptions, and experiences that shape the human condition.

A distinctive feature of From Birth Until Death is its intricate production. The album incorporates field recordings from Grunewald Forest, a distant roar of a jet, barking dogs, blending the sounds of nature – footsteps in the snow, birdsong, ocean waves – with layered synthesisers and electronic beats. The bass and ambient textures are crafted using an array of analog hardware, while all vocals, both lead and backing, are performed and recorded by Jordan. Some of the vocal takes were intentionally left raw, capturing the spontaneous energy of early recordings, while others were re-recorded to balance the album’s organic yet polished feel. Each element is meticulously crafted, revealing its deeper meaning as the album unfolds like a multidimensional, living sculpture.

At its core, From Birth Until Death is a meditation on the full spectrum of life. The album’s title track, From Birth Until Death, encapsulates this journey, reflecting on the passage of time and the unique experience of being human. The final track, Death, offers a melancholic yet beautiful exploration of endings, not as finalities, but as moments in the grand cycle of life. With its combination of evocative sound design and deeply personal themes, From Birth Until Death invites listeners to contemplate their own lives, offering a moving experience of reflection, growth, and transformation.

About From Birth Until Death
Words By Robin Rimbaud (Scanner)

From Birth Until Death is a deeply personal and reflective album and beautifully crafted. A detailed listen reveals that Jordan was in search of a profoundly human and authentic expression. In an era when so much around us seems defined by speed, Anna Jordan, aka The Allegorist, stands apart – aware that skimming the surface of life is neither sufficient nor rewarding. She reminds us of the value of deep, authentic listening.

The track Andean Condor seductively draws us into a smoky, blurred rhythmic soundscape, capturing the essence of the darkest Berlin nightclub, while Birth pulses with an almost shamanic transformation of sound, moving from the organic to the musical. It features a recording of Jordan’s footsteps in the snow in Grunewald Forest, Germany.

At times, the music feels almost sculptural in shape and tone – lifting, pushing, lilting, opening, and closing – where each piece is given room to fully develop. Many of the works blend synthetic sound with the natural, incorporating the human voice alongside environmental recordings: the wild waves of the ocean, a jet flying overhead, and barking dogs.

With From Birth Until Death, Jordan, like an alchemical architect revealing in the process of getting lost and relinquishing control, leaves us with a taut, immersive soundtrack in which to lose ourselves.

About the album ‘From Birth Until Death’
words by The Allegorist

“The album From Birth Until Death did not come easily to me. I started working on it in 2019, and it underwent many alterations over the years. I produced multiple versions of the tracks each year, but the album name, the track titles, and the album cover art stayed the same for 6 years. Not everything I did fit into the album’s final form, but I hope the heavy selection just made it better. I played this piece live in my techno live set between 2019 and 2020, and in the years after, I performed different art, ambient, and vocal versions of it, most notably the one at the church St. Marienkirche in Berlin in 2022. It just wanted to live and didn’t want to be finished. As I aged, this album aged with me. And now I’m ready to let it go.”

Music is storytelling, and some of the best stories have been told through centuries-old traditional folk songs. On their new album ‘Northern Sky’, The Wellermen have given this rich traditional musical history a new sound, hoping to continue to captivate millions of fans around the world. It helps that The Wellermen’s four members all bring their respective experience and perspectives to the table. The fact that they’re from different corners of the world really adds something to the music - there’s something romantic about the way the members have to go on a voyage to see each other.

The Wellermen’s history is well-known: having been the originators of the sea shanty trend on Tiktok, they’ve since gone from strength to strength, gaining a huge following across social media with new trends linked to their music. Their versions of ‘Misty Mountains’ and Ed Sheeran’s ‘Nancy Mulligan’, along with their spine-tingling rendition of ‘Hoist The Colours’ have racked up billions of views across Tiktok and youtube and over 110m streams of their debut album, and led them to appearances on shows like Ant and Dec, LAst Week Tonight with Jon Oliver, The Colbert Show and more.

The group have now returned with their new album ‘Northern Sky’, where they have gone above and beyond to show they are indeed masters of their craft. Recorded in a cottage in the picturesque hills of Surrey, they poured their considerable knowledge and prowess into the album’s 12 tracks, all of which fit their love of storytelling. On the Scottish folk song ‘Wild Mountain Thyme’, for example, the group’s harmonies and rich vocals capture the nostalgic, wistful nature of the song, which speaks of love and nature’s beauty. The group’s tribute to Johnny Cash on the song ‘Hurt’ is set to be a fan favourite - melding the raw and uninhibited torment of the original with the dignified but heart-rending grief of Cash’s version.

Elsewhere on the record the original song and title track ‘Northern Sky’ is a perfect demonstration of the Wellermen’s gift for creating a real dynamic, steering it gently from the darker, more ominous numbers into something truly uplifting. ‘Tall Tales’, another original, is a wonderful portrayal of humorous one-upmanship - a call-and-response that is likely to get crowds’ feet stomping and hands clapping. Say the Wellermen: “It’s all about connection and storytelling, and we hope the listeners are able to find something meaningful.” One thing is absolutely certain: these talented young men are in it for the long haul.

Music is storytelling, and some of the best stories have been told through centuries-old traditional folk songs. On their new album ‘Northern Sky’, The Wellermen have given this rich traditional musical history a new sound, hoping to continue to captivate millions of fans around the world. It helps that The Wellermen’s four members all bring their respective experience and perspectives to the table. The fact that they’re from different corners of the world really adds something to the music - there’s something romantic about the way the members have to go on a voyage to see each other.

The Wellermen’s history is well-known: having been the originators of the sea shanty trend on Tiktok, they’ve since gone from strength to strength, gaining a huge following across social media with new trends linked to their music. Their versions of ‘Misty Mountains’ and Ed Sheeran’s ‘Nancy Mulligan’, along with their spine-tingling rendition of ‘Hoist The Colours’ have racked up billions of views across Tiktok and youtube and over 110m streams of their debut album, and led them to appearances on shows like Ant and Dec, LAst Week Tonight with Jon Oliver, The Colbert Show and more.

The group have now returned with their new album ‘Northern Sky’, where they have gone above and beyond to show they are indeed masters of their craft. Recorded in a cottage in the picturesque hills of Surrey, they poured their considerable knowledge and prowess into the album’s 12 tracks, all of which fit their love of storytelling. On the Scottish folk song ‘Wild Mountain Thyme’, for example, the group’s harmonies and rich vocals capture the nostalgic, wistful nature of the song, which speaks of love and nature’s beauty. The group’s tribute to Johnny Cash on the song ‘Hurt’ is set to be a fan favourite - melding the raw and uninhibited torment of the original with the dignified but heart-rending grief of Cash’s version.

Elsewhere on the record the original song and title track ‘Northern Sky’ is a perfect demonstration of the Wellermen’s gift for creating a real dynamic, steering it gently from the darker, more ominous numbers into something truly uplifting. ‘Tall Tales’, another original, is a wonderful portrayal of humorous one-upmanship - a call-and-response that is likely to get crowds’ feet stomping and hands clapping. Say the Wellermen: “It’s all about connection and storytelling, and we hope the listeners are able to find something meaningful.” One thing is absolutely certain: these talented young men are in it for the long haul.

Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.

If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.

Khana Bierbood’s second studio album after their following the release of their debut LP ‘Strangers From The Far East’ in 2019, in 2023, Go (Kikagaku Mayo/Guruguru Brain) joined the band at TMM studios in Bangkok and together they recorded this, their second studio album, ‘Monolam’ (meaning unique in sound and style).

While the album maintains the infectious rock’n’roll charm of their previous offering, it shows a departure toward an even more sublime and groovy psychedelic sound - a sound that pays homage to their passion for the past and their longing for a new cultural renaissance. Lyrically, the songs speak of the life experiences of the band, combined sometimes with stories from Thai movies and dramas, telling tales of love, loss and adventure.

Stephen EvEns highly anticipated new album Here Come the Lights is set for release, March 29, the album is self-produced and mastered with Sean McGee (Abbey Road) will be released via Onomatopoeia (Hurtling, William D. Drake, Crayola Lectern). The album celebrates the recent success of his limited-edition vinyl only release, Smoking Is Cool (recorded with Steve Albini). Here Come The Lights takes a step into the future, as folk-art tales are interspersed with psych rock magic and post-punk sensibilities amidst swooping and motoric guitars, sound effects and metronomic happenings, in this rich tapestry of life. A Song For Europe teases, cracking, and fizzing onto our radar, this ‘love affair to Europe’ is a celebration of a continent and moments in time, complete with virtuoso guitar, full backing choir and grunge atmospherics. Firefly has a pure folk aesthetic, sound effects, symphonies, and percussion combine in a call to find one’s true strength. BBQ Head picks-up more of a groove, interspersed with rapping style lyrics fused with the fuzzy intermission of 7 Bells. Lazy Eyes takes on a more mournful and melancholic hue, depicting a couple’s evasive looks over dinner, as they avoid the elephant in the room, cracks into a soaring space-rock ending. A Tree takes us on a kaleidoscopic journey into the forest, as EvEns takes a moment out from modern life, where he and his dog Rudy escape into the autumnal wilderness. A Bee takes on a more high glam Roxy Music appeal meets 70s novelty pop, fun and exhilarating. The album is polished off with a song of hope called Happy New Year, metronomic beginnings, gentle Hammond orchestrations weigh-up the importance of friendship and the meaning of success. Multi-instrumentalist and talented musician Stephen EvEns tours with his own guitar and full band line-up. The album welcomes a whole host of Brixton Hill Studios collaborators, accompanied by former Echobelly/Curve bassist Debbie Smith, Cardiacs alumni Bob Leith and William D. Drake, and Hurtling guitarist and sometime My Bloody Valentine keyboard player Jenny Macro, Stephen EvEns plays live at The Lexington, alongside labelmates from Onomatopoeia

“The band was once described as a 'fucking nightmare' to be around, whilst we are lovely people we do embrace the chaos that comes with all of this so found it fitting to title our next album as such. The songs themselves mainly follow this theme but relate to all aspects of life. Lyrically, it is more of the same... no metaphorical meanings, no fantastical story telling, no pretentious bollocks.... Just tales of a life lived as it will always be.”

Walls & Birds‘ debut on the Berlin label Beatbude! Recorded with the aid of “The Whitest Boy Alive” keyboarder Daniel Nentwig at the local Butterama Recording Center, the vinyl is accompanied by a fold-out poster and a digital bonus track.

Much like their previous releases, “Less than a kilometer away” is Walls & Birds’ new take on popular music today. The first song “Wearing a Dress” touches on the theme of modern clothing habits, while questioning relationship patterns still widespread in popular music lyrics. The surprising element of new found love is also one of the themes of the B-side “Heads & Tales”, telling the story of a late night after work taxi ride with the chorus contemplating about the eternal either or question, plainly answered with: love. The cheerful upbeat digital bonus track “Summer 2002” is as meaningless as most nice pop songs these days.

Land Of My Other is a place of memories and melodies, lyricism and lore. A place of sunlight, faerie-tales and rowan trees; of grief, incarceration and thunder in darkness. A place where ancestral trauma and colonial injustice meet blazing pride, romantic self-rule and hands held in a circle in the sea.

Where songs are sung with feeling, instruments are everywhere and music lives deep in the bones.

Land of My Other. The third studio album by The Breath.

Produced by renowned composer/pianist Thomas Bartlett, and with the wildly acclaimed duo that is singer Ríoghnach Ree-uh-na Connolly and guitarist Stuart McCallum at its core, it's a project that grabs you by the scruff from the off.

Ten original tracks. Raw, gorgeous, acoustic-minded music. Synths and effects so subtle they might be invisible. Negative space created, shaded, created again. Lyrics with meaning, power and an often terrible beauty. Songs that tell stories in ways that soothe, thrill and hit like a sucker punch.
credits
releases October 13, 2023

All tracks written by The Breath
Except ‘Don’t Rush It’ and ‘Without You in it’ written by The Breath and Thomas Bartlett
Produced and arranged by Thomas Bartlett

Ríoghnach Connolly - vocals, flute, shruti
Stuart McCallum - acoustic and electric guitars
Thomas Bartlett - piano, mellotron, op-1, rhodes bass, programming

Tape
"And we"re coming out of dreams / And we"re coming back to dreams" is the first thing you hear Bill say as you remake your acquaintance on YTILAER. Right out the gate, he"s standing in two places at once: meeting up with old friends behind the scenes and encountering them on the record, finding himself coming round the bend and then again as someone else on down the line. Like the character actor he played on Gold Record, writing stories about other people, telling jokes about everyone, and in singing them, becoming the songs. "You do what you"ve got to do / To see the picture" Bill"s got a full band sound going on this one, with him and Matt Kinsey on guitars, Emmett Kelly on bass and backing vocals, Sarah Ann Phillips on B3, piano and backing vocals and Jim White on drums. Jim and Matt sing on one song, too, and some other singers come in, too. Bill plays some synth here and there, and Carl Smith drifts in and out of the picture with his contra alto clarinet, as do Mike St. Clair and Derek Phelps on brass. Somehow in between them all, you might think you hear the distant sound of a steel guitar. And you might - but you might not, too. In this company, Bill continues his journey, tunneling underneath the weathered exterior of what seems to be and into the more nuanced life everything takes on in the dark. With Bill"s voice making the extraordinary leaps and bounds that measure the lives of the songs, the band follow him through passages that seem to invent themselves; other times playing with deeply soulful grooves and/or desperate intensity, as these moments come and go. There"s nothing they can"t do. "I wrote this song in five and forever / I"m writing it right now" Bill sings on "Natural Information" - an admission of the everyday alchemy he"s forever trafficking in. Time passes, triangulating the encounters that went into any one record with two out of any three others, all of it made flesh, new constitution, in our stereo speakers. If every album is its own life, it stands to reason that they"re invariably passing in the night. Cascading images flowing from the stream of consciousness. Turning like pages from the journal, unspeakably personal, then suddenly become tall tales, like a book pulled off the shelf, completely unbound. Headlines flow through. Mirror images, mirthful ones. Bill"s lyrics strain at the lines on the page, not content to separate the printing of the fact from the myth or be confined to ink on paper. They want to fly free. And they do. "I realize now that dreams are real" On YTILAER"s inner sleeve, alongside his lyrics, Bill celebrates the "exhilaration and dread" of cover artist Paul Ryan"s paintings. Paul"s another one met up with again down the road, his indelible cover imagery on Apocalypse and Dream River now an axis of meaning in the Callahanian world - and in the bright colors found in these new images, a parallel to Bill"s recognitions here. "A breath of exquisite air as we come up from drowning", sounds like the desired hope for those hearing the songs of YTILAER.

"And we"re coming out of dreams / And we"re coming back to dreams" is the first thing you hear Bill say as you remake your acquaintance on YTILAER. Right out the gate, he"s standing in two places at once: meeting up with old friends behind the scenes and encountering them on the record, finding himself coming round the bend and then again as someone else on down the line. Like the character actor he played on Gold Record, writing stories about other people, telling jokes about everyone, and in singing them, becoming the songs. "You do what you"ve got to do / To see the picture" Bill"s got a full band sound going on this one, with him and Matt Kinsey on guitars, Emmett Kelly on bass and backing vocals, Sarah Ann Phillips on B3, piano and backing vocals and Jim White on drums. Jim and Matt sing on one song, too, and some other singers come in, too. Bill plays some synth here and there, and Carl Smith drifts in and out of the picture with his contra alto clarinet, as do Mike St. Clair and Derek Phelps on brass. Somehow in between them all, you might think you hear the distant sound of a steel guitar. And you might - but you might not, too. In this company, Bill continues his journey, tunneling underneath the weathered exterior of what seems to be and into the more nuanced life everything takes on in the dark. With Bill"s voice making the extraordinary leaps and bounds that measure the lives of the songs, the band follow him through passages that seem to invent themselves; other times playing with deeply soulful grooves and/or desperate intensity, as these moments come and go. There"s nothing they can"t do. "I wrote this song in five and forever / I"m writing it right now" Bill sings on "Natural Information" - an admission of the everyday alchemy he"s forever trafficking in. Time passes, triangulating the encounters that went into any one record with two out of any three others, all of it made flesh, new constitution, in our stereo speakers. If every album is its own life, it stands to reason that they"re invariably passing in the night. Cascading images flowing from the stream of consciousness. Turning like pages from the journal, unspeakably personal, then suddenly become tall tales, like a book pulled off the shelf, completely unbound. Headlines flow through. Mirror images, mirthful ones. Bill"s lyrics strain at the lines on the page, not content to separate the printing of the fact from the myth or be confined to ink on paper. They want to fly free. And they do. "I realize now that dreams are real" On YTILAER"s inner sleeve, alongside his lyrics, Bill celebrates the "exhilaration and dread" of cover artist Paul Ryan"s paintings. Paul"s another one met up with again down the road, his indelible cover imagery on Apocalypse and Dream River now an axis of meaning in the Callahanian world - and in the bright colors found in these new images, a parallel to Bill"s recognitions here. "A breath of exquisite air as we come up from drowning", sounds like the desired hope for those hearing the songs of YTILAER.

Brigid O'Neill's new album The Truth & Other Stories, recorded at Skinny Elephant Studios in Nashville with Neilson Hubbard in the producer's chair, cannot help but be influenced by the times which informed it, 'very few people escaped being affected by the pandemic, writers included.

Somehow the experiences of it seeped through onto our work and I feel The Truth and Other Stories is no exception in that regard.'
That said, this is not specifically an album about Covid or the pandemic, 'I was fascinated by the concept of 'truth' and intrigued by the concept of everyone having a different version of their truth....a personal viewpoint, their own narrative, their own story. The title plays a bit with shades of meaning - a 'counter positioning' if you like. The 'other stories' may challenge the truth, but 'the truth'
retains that sense of the absolute. In the songs I hope to present the realities of different characters through short stories. As I moved through the pandemic however, different stories came to light and sometimes the focus would shift.

Ultimately though, I have been living with these stories and these characters for some time now.'
Neilson Hubbard as producer was an obvious choice for O'Neill. A growing relationship with Nashville had seen her writing, playing and developing relationships with the many truly great musicians available across Music City.

"Being in Nashville with a producer like Neilson who has such an intuitive feel for that music, and with access to musicians who simply live and breathe it, seemed like a good idea. I'd met Neilson a few times through our mutual friend and musician Ben Glover, and it was quickly clear we would get along and had a similar attitude to the music production process. When choosing a music
producer, listening to their catalogue of works is crucial, but so too I think is that 'gut feeling' and knowledge that you can connect. When I sent Neilson my music, I knew he 'got it' and I knew I was in safe hands." Recent years have seen Brigid O'Neill gaining a deserved reputation as one of Ireland's finest songwriters. Reviews of her critically acclaimed latest releases
have reaffirmed that the gifted artist is one of the most versatile, unique and fearless storytellers on the island. Her genre-spanning music appeals to multiple generations, effortlessly weaving elements of folk, country and jazz into relatable tales of happiness, heartbreak and the human condition.

‘Was there ever a more perfect film for Glass’s lyrical manner? He refers to his own past, but the way in which the material is treated transforms it inevitably into that eternal present. Such a feeling of fragile beauty is a rare achievement.’ – Gramophone

‘Simple and complex by turn, Glass’s score adds dignity and depth to the movie, and to the tragedies and triumphs, big or small, of ordinary life.’
– Guardian

‘Underpinning the anguish at the heart of The Hours a beautiful score. Glass’s motifs capture the passage of time and the universality of human experience.’ – Classic FM’s Best Soundtracks

Nonesuch releases Philip Glass’s award-winning soundtrack to The Hours on vinyl for the first time to coincide with its 20th anniversary and Glass’ 85th birthday concert season. Originally released in December 2002, Glass’s score to the Academy Award-winning film was itself nominated for an Academy Award, as well as a Golden Globe and a Grammy, and went on to win a BAFTA and a Classical BRIT.

Directed by Stephen Daldry, The Hours is the story of three women searching for more potent, meaningful lives. Based on Michael Cunningham’s 1999 Pulitzer Prize–winning novel, with a screenplay by David Hare, the film interweaves the stories of three women – a book editor in New York (Meryl Streep), a young mother in California (Julianne Moore), and the author Virginia Woolf (Nicole Kidman). Their stories intertwine, and finally come together in a surprising, transcendent moment of shared recognition.

Philip Glass’s score was conducted by Nick Ingman, with Michael Reisman on piano and the Lyric Quartet, and recorded at Abbey Road Studios and Air Studios, London. The score was a key element in this acclaimed triptych of dramatic tales. ‘The inter-cutting of personal stories over a wide span of time,’ said NPR, ‘is held together by a single music approach.’

In his original liner note, Michael Cunningham wrote, ‘Each novel I’ve written has developed a soundtrack of sorts; a body of music that subtly but palpably helped shape the book in question. The one constant since I started trying to write novels, however – my only ongoing act of listening fidelity – has been the work of Philip Glass. I love Glass’s music almost as much as I love Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway. Glass, like Woolf, is more interested in that which continues than he is in that which begins, climaxes, and ends; he insists, as did Woolf, that beauty often resides more squarely in the present than it does in the present’s relationship to past or future. So, when I heard he’d agreed to contribute the music to the film version of The Hours, it seemed both inevitable and too good to be true. I’m not sure if I can offer any higher praise than this: When I saw the movie with the music added, I thought automatically of how I could use the soundtrack, when it came out, to help me finish my next book.’

“This is a movie about art and how art affects life," explains Philip Glass. “The story is very complicated and the music could take on a very important role in the film, as I saw it – to make it viewable, to make it comprehensible, so the stories of the three women in the film didn’t seem separate, that they were tied together. The music had to be the thread that tied the movie together. There’s no question that the emotional point of view is conveyed by the music. Music is the arrow you shoot in the air. Everything follows that.’

Born in Baltimore, Maryland, in 1937, Philip Glass is a graduate of the University of Chicago and the Juilliard School. By 1974, Glass had created a large collection of music for The Philip Glass Ensemble. The period culminated in the landmark opera, Einstein on the Beach. Since Einstein, Glass’s repertoire has grown to include music for opera, dance, theater, orchestra, and film. His scores have received Academy Award nominations (including Kundun and The Hours, both released on Nonesuch, as well as Notes on a Scandal) and a Golden Globe (The Truman Show). Recent works include Glass’s memoir, Words Without Music, Glass’s first Piano Sonata, opera Circus Days and Nights, and Symphony No. 14. Glass received the Praemium Imperiale in 2012, the US National Medal of the Arts from President Barack Obama in 2016, and 41st Kennedy Center Honors in 2018.

Nonesuch’s relationship with Glass began in 1985, with the release of the score for Paul Schrader’s Mishima. In addition to The Hours (2002) and Kundun (1997), over the years other Glass works on Nonesuch have included Einstein on the Beach (1993), Music in Twelve Parts (1996), the soundtracks for Powaqqatsi (1988) and Koyaanisqatsi (1998), Glass Box (2008), and Kronos Quartet’s Performs Philip Glass (1995), amongst others.

Words have a force of their own: a life generated by their meaning and by the imaginary world they refer to; a power increased by the dynamic interplay with other words. Just put 'Moon' and 'Apollo' together, and you'll be almost inevitably transported to mankind's greatest adventure: the Moon landing and, before that, the space race between the US and USSR, the early missions, and the incredible technological challenges faced at the time by astronauts and engineers.

It is against this imaginative background that beat-maker and bass player Moonbrew and organist and keyboardist Paolo Apollo Negri conceived The LEM Tales project. Their collaboration, too, is the coming together of 'Moon' and 'Apollo', and of their two worlds: a sonic universe where hip hop meets funk, pop merges with jazz, old school interacts with new possibilities, and urban and space blend into something new.

The LEM Tales - Chapter One narrates the space race from the American point of view. This vinyl edition, which includes two exclusive tracks (*) not on the digital release, takes us on a journey from "Project Gemini" - NASA's second human spaceflight program - to "Tranquillity Base" (*) (the site on the Moon where Armstrong and Aldrin landed and walked in July 1969) , through tracks titled "Capsule Communicator" (the individual in the mission control center who maintained communication with the astronauts in space), "EMU" (Extravehicular Mobility Unit, better known as the spacesuit), "Saturn V" (a threestage, liquid-fuelled rocket used between 1967 and 1973), and "Mercury Seven" (*) (the group of seven astronauts chosen for the Mercury Program in 1959).

Inspired by iconic images that are part of our collective visual memory, Moonbrew and Apollo's first collaborative effort tries to provide a contemporary sonic representation of what the past means to us today – and, perhaps, will mean to future generations. It does so through a feast of vintage synthesizers, transistor and tonewheel organs, string machines, electric pianos, tube amplifiers, obscure analogue devices, electric bass, and modern samplers.

An old-school hip hop approach was used in the first stages of writing the album: individual drums hits from old, dusty records were first sampled and then physically played on real instruments to create patterns and build up the rhythm section. Moonbrew then laid down the electric bass grooves and Apollo layered his dreamy, evocative vintage keyboards on top. The result is a combination of different styles, sounds and genres that is fresh, original and contemporary while being clearly influenced by many musical legends of the past.

The LEM Tales - Chapter One is released by Four Flies in partnership with Record Kicks.

LTD. LOSER EDITION

Kiwi Jr. is a phenomenal "rock" and/or "punk" and/or "indie-rock" (whichever you like more) band from Canada, made up of Jeremy Gaudet (mic, guitar), Brohan Moore (drums), Mike Walker (bass), and Brian Murphy (guitar). Cooler Returns is their second album, and their first for Sub Pop. Despite being a snapshot of the pandemic-infused beginnings of this decade, Cooler Returns is truly a whole lot of fun. RIYL indie-pop from down under, things that are smart/exuberant/catchy all at once. Buildings burning in every direction; macabre unknowns in your friendly neighbor's basement; undecided voters sharpening their pencils: under pressure we could call Kiwi Jr.'s Cooler Returns "timely." But what year is it, again? On Cooler Returns, Kiwi Jr. cycle through the recent zigs & looming zags of the new decade, squinting anew at New Year's parties forgotten and under-investigated small town diner fires, piecing together low-stakes conspiracy theories on what's coming down the pike in 2021. Put together like a thousand-piece puzzle, assembled in flow state through the first dull stretch of quarantine, sanitized singer shuffling to sanitized studio by streetcar, masked like it's the kind of work where getting recognized means getting killed, Cooler Returns materializes as a sprawling survey from the first few bites of the terrible twenties, an investigative exposé of recent history buried under the headlines & ancient kings buried under parking lots. Not so long since their debut Football Money in archaeological time, unending gray eons later in the dog years of quaran-time, spiritually antipodean Canadians Kiwi Jr return to disseminate this year's annual report to the shareholders, burying the incriminating numbers in the endless appendices of a longform narrative record, a 3,000 word tract for stakeholders to pore over. These stories - memories of Augusts past, unrepressed & transcribed fast - go down easier thanks to meaningful changes enacted in 2019's KiwiCares Pledge: delivering on a promise to transition from Crunchy to Smooth by 2021, the caveman chug of Football Money has been steamed & pressed with the purifying air of a saloon piano - operated with bow-tie untied - and a spring green side-salad of tentatively up-tempo organ taps & freshly fluted harmonica. A chronically detuned spin of the dial through swivel-chair distractions & WFH daydreams, an immersive ctrl-tab deluge cycling through popular listicle distractions like the unentombing of Richard III, or the deja vu destruction of the Glasgow School of Art, Kiwi Jr. sing this song to an indoor audience, crisscrossing canceled, every other prestige distraction source wrung dry, only songwriting remaining to deliver engrossing tales to the populace, just how I imagine it worked in the old days. Fixing loose ingredients into a sturdy whip, Kiwi Jr. beam in live from the 9-5, striding into 2021 with a mastered brainwave that comes equally from the back room of the record store as the penalty box. And how do we, left holding this box of deliberate entanglements, sign off to those as yet uninitiated, undecided, uncertain, unseen, absent return coordinates - Best Wishes, Warm Regards, Good Luck? Cooler Returns, Cooler Returns, C o o l e r R e t u r n s ! Cooler Returns was produced by Kiwi Jr., mixed and engineered by Graham Walsh (METZ, Bully) in Toronto, and mastered by Phillip Shaw Bova at Bova Labs in Ottawa, Ontario.

Kiwi Jr. is a phenomenal "rock" and/or "punk" and/or "indie-rock" (whichever you like more) band from Canada, made up of Jeremy Gaudet (mic, guitar), Brohan Moore (drums), Mike Walker (bass), and Brian Murphy (guitar). Cooler Returns is their second album, and their first for Sub Pop. Despite being a snapshot of the pandemic-infused beginnings of this decade, Cooler Returns is truly a whole lot of fun. RIYL indie-pop from down under, things that are smart/exuberant/catchy all at once. Buildings burning in every direction; macabre unknowns in your friendly neighbor's basement; undecided voters sharpening their pencils: under pressure we could call Kiwi Jr.'s Cooler Returns "timely." But what year is it, again? On Cooler Returns, Kiwi Jr. cycle through the recent zigs & looming zags of the new decade, squinting anew at New Year's parties forgotten and under-investigated small town diner fires, piecing together low-stakes conspiracy theories on what's coming down the pike in 2021. Put together like a thousand-piece puzzle, assembled in flow state through the first dull stretch of quarantine, sanitized singer shuffling to sanitized studio by streetcar, masked like it's the kind of work where getting recognized means getting killed, Cooler Returns materializes as a sprawling survey from the first few bites of the terrible twenties, an investigative exposé of recent history buried under the headlines & ancient kings buried under parking lots. Not so long since their debut Football Money in archaeological time, unending gray eons later in the dog years of quaran-time, spiritually antipodean Canadians Kiwi Jr return to disseminate this year's annual report to the shareholders, burying the incriminating numbers in the endless appendices of a longform narrative record, a 3,000 word tract for stakeholders to pore over. These stories - memories of Augusts past, unrepressed & transcribed fast - go down easier thanks to meaningful changes enacted in 2019's KiwiCares Pledge: delivering on a promise to transition from Crunchy to Smooth by 2021, the caveman chug of Football Money has been steamed & pressed with the purifying air of a saloon piano - operated with bow-tie untied - and a spring green side-salad of tentatively up-tempo organ taps & freshly fluted harmonica. A chronically detuned spin of the dial through swivel-chair distractions & WFH daydreams, an immersive ctrl-tab deluge cycling through popular listicle distractions like the unentombing of Richard III, or the deja vu destruction of the Glasgow School of Art, Kiwi Jr. sing this song to an indoor audience, crisscrossing canceled, every other prestige distraction source wrung dry, only songwriting remaining to deliver engrossing tales to the populace, just how I imagine it worked in the old days. Fixing loose ingredients into a sturdy whip, Kiwi Jr. beam in live from the 9-5, striding into 2021 with a mastered brainwave that comes equally from the back room of the record store as the penalty box. And how do we, left holding this box of deliberate entanglements, sign off to those as yet uninitiated, undecided, uncertain, unseen, absent return coordinates - Best Wishes, Warm Regards, Good Luck? Cooler Returns, Cooler Returns, C o o l e r R e t u r n s ! Cooler Returns was produced by Kiwi Jr., mixed and engineered by Graham Walsh (METZ, Bully) in Toronto, and mastered by Phillip Shaw Bova at Bova Labs in Ottawa, Ontario.

Canadian quartet BADBADNOTGOOD take on creating the ultimate late night' selection of tracks from their record collections, set for release on 28th July 2017. The original trio of Matthew Tavares, Alex Sowinski and Chester Hansen formed while studying music at Toronto's Humber College (they've recently added Leland Whitty to the line-up). A shared appreciation of hip hop and instrumental covers of Gucci Mane and Earl Sweatshirt suggested a worldly outlook and reciprocated love from Tyler The Creator and Ghostface Killah, which whom they made 2015's Sour Soul.

This is an international effort: Velly Joonas' Estonian version of 'Feel Like Makin' Love', Kiki Gyan, Admas and Francis Bebey representing Africa (Ghana, Ethiopia and Cameroon respectively), Les Prospection from France, Scots' Boards Of Canada and fellow Canucks River Tiber and Charlotte Day Wilson.

Finally, there's the no-small-matter of the Late Night Tales cover version, in which BADBADNOTGOOD take on Andy Shauf's 'To You' is turned into a mournful delight. while the Queen Of Siam herself, Lydia Lunch, delivers a sexual sermon involving only you, her and Jim Beam.

We were really excited to have the chance to put together a Late Night Tales compilation, it's a great organisation. We decided to use it as a vehicle to show everyone all the amazing music we have gotten to experience by touring and meeting new people. Every track on this comp was either shown to us by an incredible person or made by one of our friends. We also included a little cover of a song by one of our favourite current musicians, Andy Shauf.

These artists, as well as many, many others, have infuenced us to create and kept our deep love of music alive. This mix will keep you company on a quiet night by yourself or with friends. You can check it out on the plane, the bus, a long walk, or any situation where you want a soundtrack for reflection and meditation.' - BADBADNOTGOOD May 2017