Поиск:need for mirro

Deerhoof haben sich schon vor langer Zeit als eine der großartigsten Rockgruppen des Planeten etabliert - wer das für übertrieben hält, hat noch nicht genug Zeit damit verbracht, Deerhoof zu hören - das wahnsinnig erfinderische Quartett behandelt jedes seiner neuen Alben als eine Gelegenheit zur kreativen Wiedergeburt. Und doch sind sie irgendwie auch zutiefst zuverlässig, eine seltsame, aber wahre Beschreibung für eine Band, die so kreativ rastlos ist. Man weiß nie, wie ein neues Deerhoof-Album klingen wird, außer dass es immer nach Deerhoof klingen wird. Die Band wird durch solche Paradoxien definiert, wie "Noble and Godlike in Ruin" erneut bestätigt. Ihr neuestes Album ist entweder ein Porträt einer Welt, die in monströsen Hass, Entmenschlichung und Dollarzeichen abgleitet, oder ein eindringliches Selbstporträt der Band als Monster: ein intelligentes, sensibles, hybrides Wesen, das unermüdlich von Liebe singt, sich aber zunehmend von dieser Welt entfremdet. Die Musik ist fröhlich und ahnungsvoll, kybernetisch und zutiefst menschlich, alles zugleich. Streicher, die an avantgardistische Kammermusik und klassische Horrorfilm-Soundtracks erinnern, prallen auf Gitarren- und Basslinien. Das Schlagzeug ist manchmal gefiltert und klingt fast elektronisch, aber kein Computer könnte einen so funkigen und dynamischen Rhythmus erzeugen, bei dem jede winzige Variation von einem Snare-Schlag zum nächsten Welten der Möglichkeiten vermittelt. An der Spitze steht die unnachahmliche Altstimme von Satomi Matsuzaki. Eine Stimme der Einsamkeit, deren schlichte Ruhe seltsam außerhalb des Mahlstroms der Band zu stehen scheint, zu dem sie mit ihren zackig-präzisen Bassläufen selbst beiträgt. Als Einwanderin der ersten Generation in den USA hat sie nie versucht, ihren japanischen Akzent oder ihre Karaoke-esken Vortrag zu verbergen. Auf "Noble und Godlike in Ruin" wirkt dies abwechselnd als Ausdruck von Einsamkeit und als kühle Provokation gegenüber Systemen der Unterdrückung und Kontrolle. ,Kindness is all I needed from you", singt sie auf dem epischen Albumabschluss ,Immigrant Songs`. ,But you think we're in your house." Nicht lange danach explodiert der Song, sein eng gewickelter Art-Pop macht Platz für mehrere Minuten heulenden Lärm. Auch wenn das Thema düster sein mag - wie könnte es anders sein - tragen die Songs trotzigen Optimismus in ihrer Weigerung, sich den Konventionen oder überlieferten Weisheiten zu beugen. Da ist diese berühmte Zeile von Dylan Thomas über das Wüten gegen das Sterben des Lichts: "Noble and Godlike in Ruin" fühlt sich ein wenig so an. Die Welt mag untergehen, aber Deerhoof gehen schwungvoll unter.

In 2022, Osàre! Editions founder Elena Colombi approached artists and musicians with a prompt: Every body, everyone needs love to flourish. In her book The Will to Change, the eminent author and social activist, Bell Hooks, invites men to excavate their innermost selves, challenging the way that patriarchal society limits their capacity for intimacy, tenderness, care and emotion. As hooks lays out, feminist thought and work requires the collective participation of all genders in order to realise a liberated world. How can we imagine cross-gender solidarity through music and art? And how can we tell sonic stories that facilitate our full potential as desiring beings? These are the questions that The Male Body Will Be Next starts out from.

The title of the record draws connections between hooks' writing, a film by Rebecca Salvadori and Peter de Potter's stunning photo series of the same name. In de Potter and Salvadori's depictions, men's bodies appear as vulnerable, naked and exposed.

Divided into two parts, the first instalment of The Male Body Will Be Next hinges on colliding energies – the melding of club dance floors and haunting ambient textures, agile techno and noisy experimentation.

'The sun on my skin… it’s so warm and gentle,’ speak-sings Olivia Salvadori on ‘Su Di Te M’Infrango’, visualising utopias. Laurel Halo crafts a dreamscape spun from golden threads of synth and strings. Pensive and reflective, Ben Bertrand’s bass clarinet roams searchingly, its piercing tonality full of longing. Yet, in between these lucid, cinematic passages and spoken word, The Male Body Will Be Next finds space to dance together. Moving in fervent, rhythmic patterns, Sepehr’s ‘Divooneh’ pivots between tension and release. Filmmaker unleashes a wave of energy and The Spy delivers a potent take on vintage electro, the track title hinting at the double-bind of gendered expectations. Propelled between these eclectic styles, the record encapsulates the full spectrum of sonic expression.

Deerhoof haben sich schon vor langer Zeit als eine der großartigsten Rockgruppen des Planeten etabliert - wer das für übertrieben hält, hat noch nicht genug Zeit damit verbracht, Deerhoof zu hören - das wahnsinnig erfinderische Quartett behandelt jedes seiner neuen Alben als eine Gelegenheit zur kreativen Wiedergeburt. Und doch sind sie irgendwie auch zutiefst zuverlässig, eine seltsame, aber wahre Beschreibung für eine Band, die so kreativ rastlos ist. Man weiß nie, wie ein neues Deerhoof-Album klingen wird, außer dass es immer nach Deerhoof klingen wird. Die Band wird durch solche Paradoxien definiert, wie "Noble and Godlike in Ruin" erneut bestätigt. Ihr neuestes Album ist entweder ein Porträt einer Welt, die in monströsen Hass, Entmenschlichung und Dollarzeichen abgleitet, oder ein eindringliches Selbstporträt der Band als Monster: ein intelligentes, sensibles, hybrides Wesen, das unermüdlich von Liebe singt, sich aber zunehmend von dieser Welt entfremdet. Die Musik ist fröhlich und ahnungsvoll, kybernetisch und zutiefst menschlich, alles zugleich. Streicher, die an avantgardistische Kammermusik und klassische Horrorfilm-Soundtracks erinnern, prallen auf Gitarren- und Basslinien. Das Schlagzeug ist manchmal gefiltert und klingt fast elektronisch, aber kein Computer könnte einen so funkigen und dynamischen Rhythmus erzeugen, bei dem jede winzige Variation von einem Snare-Schlag zum nächsten Welten der Möglichkeiten vermittelt. An der Spitze steht die unnachahmliche Altstimme von Satomi Matsuzaki. Eine Stimme der Einsamkeit, deren schlichte Ruhe seltsam außerhalb des Mahlstroms der Band zu stehen scheint, zu dem sie mit ihren zackig-präzisen Bassläufen selbst beiträgt. Als Einwanderin der ersten Generation in den USA hat sie nie versucht, ihren japanischen Akzent oder ihre Karaoke-esken Vortrag zu verbergen. Auf "Noble und Godlike in Ruin" wirkt dies abwechselnd als Ausdruck von Einsamkeit und als kühle Provokation gegenüber Systemen der Unterdrückung und Kontrolle. ,Kindness is all I needed from you", singt sie auf dem epischen Albumabschluss ,Immigrant Songs`. ,But you think we're in your house." Nicht lange danach explodiert der Song, sein eng gewickelter Art-Pop macht Platz für mehrere Minuten heulenden Lärm. Auch wenn das Thema düster sein mag - wie könnte es anders sein - tragen die Songs trotzigen Optimismus in ihrer Weigerung, sich den Konventionen oder überlieferten Weisheiten zu beugen. Da ist diese berühmte Zeile von Dylan Thomas über das Wüten gegen das Sterben des Lichts: "Noble and Godlike in Ruin" fühlt sich ein wenig so an. Die Welt mag untergehen, aber Deerhoof gehen schwungvoll unter.

Almost Like You Could ignites its art punk fire with Lucy Alexander proclaiming, “Everyone wants something to talk about / But not a minute to spare, so be brief.” Not surprising from a song that’s 1:54 (‘Higher’), but the raw honesty in her lyrics ring far after the music ends. Alexander, along with bandmate Luke Cartledge, place the propulsive power of their beliefs at the core of their debut full-length album, and their guiding motivation towards social justice is as fierce as it is welcoming. “Living as part of the queer community, and being queer myself, leads me towards supporting every person’s truth,” Alexander says. Scrounge’s songs skip to a fast beat, electrifying the entire album with a sense of empowerment. Their approach is OG punk: they make music for their peers and themselves. Only now, with a world of connections possible, they’re able to open arms wide for a far-reaching embrace. Alexander’s rich vocals give their sound its central force, anchoring the songs with confessional lines (“If this is the pinnacle, then I need a miracle/ Cause everyone’s laughing at me,” “There’s not much left/ this corpse I have to keep/ Above board.”). They sing about economic inequality, political corruption, environmental destruction, and collective change. “We’re inspired by those around us, and we write about what we care about. Art has always existed for us as a means of catharsis, a way of expressing something we might not be able to otherwise, and we hope our music can be that for other people too,” says Alexander. “I think I’ve actually written a filthy banger,” she states while re-listening to “Buzz/Cut”, a grunge-honoring hammer of a song that takes a journey from disappointment, to self-realization, to release. Alexander and Cartledge’s gratification in making an album they’re proud of mirrors the empowerment conveyed in their lyrics. A follow-up to debut mini-album Sugar, Daddy (Fierce Panda, 2022), Almost Like You Could came together over 18 months, in between “teaching, touring, graduation, and a wedding”, as Lucy explains, for the band always has a handful of shows coming up. It’s a strange outcome for a duo who first bonded over their mutual love of SOPHIE. “She radicalized the structure of sound, and revealed herself through it,” Cartledge explains. “That was a massive inspiration when we started playing together, stripping everything away to open up new possibilities as artists and as people." Having already toured Europe and the States, Scrounge is preparing to be on the road throughout 2025. In a world where the idea of true community is ephemeral, Lucy and Luke seek to foster it everywhere they play. And their belief in change is ultimately buoyed by hope. “I know that it’s never been this good,” they sing.

Cult musician Paddy Hanna announces his forthcoming album Oylegate with the release of his new song ‘Oylegate Station’, out Wednesday, 29th January via Strange Brew Records.

In celebration of Oylegate, which arrives on Friday, 11th April, Hanna plays Whelans on Thursday, 17th April. Tickets are €21.95 + fees and can be purchased here.

After his fourth album, Imagine I’m Hoping, arrived to critical acclaim but not the mainstream success needed for him to continue on as a musician, Hanna found himself at a personal and artistic low point. However, thanks to support from the Arts Council and the encouragement of his family, ‘Oylegate Station’ sees Hanna returning as the intrepid captain of his own ship; he may not know the destination, but he’ll see us along the journey with his graceful pop sensibilities.

Speaking about the new track, Hanna’s cryptic explanation could be confused for a missive from a lonely cosmonaut: “Low rent fuel, caffeine of all shapes, the midpoint of hope and despair, engine still running at Oylegate Station.”
Elation and exhaustion. Love and terror. The weight of responsibility and the strange, disorienting beauty of watching life unfold before your eyes. OLYEGATE, the latest album from Paddy Hanna, is a journey through the euphoric highs and crushing lows of parenthood, delivered with his signature blend of melancholic wit and lush, off-kilter charm.

Determined to sidestep the usual sentimental trappings of writing about having a child, Hanna found an unlikely creative companion in grim Soviet-era cinema. As he wrote, films like Solaris flickered in the background—bleak, meditative landscapes that mirrored the depths of sleep deprivation and the existential wonder of bringing a new life into the world. This contrast of warmth and detachment, of intimate revelation and surreal detour, courses through the album’s DNA.

Despite its moments of cold introspection, OLYEGATE is sonically rich and enveloping—an effect captured in a single request to producer Daniel Fox: "sweet, sweet caramel." Hanna wanted the music to feel like satin lining the listener’s ears, wrapping them in warmth even when the themes tilt towards darkness.

True to form, OLYEGATE marks yet another creative leap for an artist who refuses to be boxed in. "One advantage of being an ‘artist’s artist’ is that you never have to worry about being creatively different between albums. There's real freedom in doing whatever you want and not being judged for it. And even if you are judged, who gives a shit?"

That spirit of fearless exploration—of finding joy in the unknown, the absurd, and the deeply personal—defines OLYEGATE. An odyssey of tenderness and turbulence, it’s the sound of an artist embracing life’s messiest, most beautiful contradictions.

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.

On Chrystia Cabral's fourth album as SPELLLING, the Bay Area artist transforms her acclaimed avant-pop project into a mirror. Cabral's lyrics for Portrait of My Heart tackle love, intimacy, anxiety, and alienation, trading the allegorical approach of much of her previous work for something pointed into her human heart. The album's thematic forthrightness is echoed in its arrangements, making it the sharpest, most direct SPELLLING album to date. From the dark minimalism of her earliest music to the lavishly orchestrated prog-pop of 2021's The Turning Wheel to this newly energetic expression of her creative spirit, Cabral has proved again and again that SPELLLING can be whatever she needs it to be. The title track, with its propulsive drum groove and anthemic chorus of "I don't belong here," is the most potent embodiment of the album's turn toward emotional directness. Once the main melody emerged, Cabral used the song as a tool to process her anxiety as a performer and opted for a tighter, more rock-oriented composition. This transformation mirrors the album's broader shift toward energy and immediacy, driven by the core band of Wyatt Overson (guitar), Patrick Shelley (drums), and Giulio Xavier Cetto (bass), whose collaboration uncovers new contours of the SPELLLING sound. Cabral still writes and demos in isolation, but presenting the songs for Portrait of My Heart to her bandmates helped her discover their eventual lively, organic forms. So did working with a trio of producers_The Turning Wheel mixing engineer Drew Vandenberg, SZA collaborator Rob Bisel, and Yves Tumor producer Psymun. Key guest contributions further shape the album. Chaz Bear (Toro y Moi) delivers SPELLLING's first duet on "Mount Analogue," Turnstile guitarist Pat McCrory turns Cabral's original piano demo for "Alibi" into the crunchy, riff-y version that appears on the record, while Zulu's Braxton Marcellous gives "Drain" its sludgy heft. These parts aren't just incorporated seamlessly into the album; they feel like an integral part of its universe. Ultimately, though, Portrait of My Heart is nobody's record but Cabral's. She fearlessly draws the curtain back on parts of herself that she's never included in SPELLLING before_her feelings of being an outsider, her overly guarded nature, the way she can throw herself recklessly into intimate relationships and then cool on them just as quickly. "It's very much an open diary of all those sensations," she says.

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.

The long-awaited new full-length from legendary electronic pioneers THE ORB with cover design from iconic graphic wizards THE DESIGNERS REPUBLIC • A fascinating sonic journey over four epic tracks, constantly switching between psychedelic flourishes and beat-driven focus

Veritable pioneers of electronic music, iconic act THE ORB returns to Kompakt with the new full-length MOONBUILDING 2703 AD - another major slice of psychedelic synth bliss, obscure loops and deep ambient textures tossed in swinging breakbeats and powerful basslines. Installing a forward momentum rather unusual for a genre-defying project like this, the latest effort from masterminds Alex Paterson and Thomas Fehlmann follows their 2005 album success on Kompakt, the cheekily named "Okie Dokie It's The Orb On Kompakt" (KOMPAKT CD 45), as well as several contributions to our Speicher and Pop Ambient series - but more importantly, it finds the legendary duo at the peak of its creativity, ringing in another essential phase in what can only be called a ground-breaking career.

True to form, the new offering MOONBUILDING 2703 AD features a small track list, but turns each one of its four cuts into a mini epic in its own right. Opener GOD'S MIRRORBALL hits the ground floating, employing a handful of cozy statics to great effect before finally discharging into an intricate mosaic of atmospheric melodic sketches and gripping rhythms. With a hypnotic runtime of more than 14 minutes, it immediately establishes a blueprint for the other album tracks to follow, perfectly illustrating the vast extent of the artists' vision and their impressive skills in luring in listeners - welcome to THE ORB's sonic labyrinth, where nothing is what it seems and the unexpected waits just around the corner.

Likewise, follow-up track MOONSCAPES 2703 BC presents itself as a uniquely versatile affair sitting comfortably between ambient flourishes and beat-driven focus, holding as many twists and turns as a caper movie, but carefully grounding every single one of its cliffhangers in its impeccable flow. With a runtime of approximately 9 minutes, LUNAR CAVES is the shortest jam of the bunch - and also the most ethereal, keeping its rhythmic content to a bare, pulse-like minimum and opting for enticing, freewheeling synth textures instead. Album closer and title cut MOONBUILDING 2703 AD introduces a surprisingly jazzy vibe mingling rather well with the wealth of electronic tricks up its sleeve - even indulging in abrasive bass sweeps and a breathtaking multitude of different rhythm sections constantly switching places. It's a fitting closing act for a full-length as multifaceted as this, as idiosyncratic as possible and as muscling as needed.


• Das langerwartete neue Album der legendären Elektronikpioniere THE ORB mit einem Coverdesign der gefeierten Graphikschmiede THE DESIGNERS REBUBLIC • Eine faszinierende Klangreise über vier epische Tracks hinweg, permanent zwischen psychedelischen Schlüsselreizen und beatgetriebenem Fokus changierend

Mit THE ORB kehren echte Pioniere der elektronischen Musik zu Kompakt zurück - der Langspieler MOONBUILDING 2703 AD präsentiert erneut einen grossen Wurf in Richtung psychedelischen Synthie-Segens, obskurer Loops und porentiefer Ambient-Texturen, geschwenkt in schwungvollen Breakbeats und wirkmächtigen Basslines. Mit einem für genresprengende Projekte wie diesem hier eher unüblichen Vorwärtsdrang beerbt das neue Album von den Großmeistern Alex Paterson und Thomas Fehlmann ihren 2005er Erfolg auf Kompakt, das augenzwinkernd benannte "Okie Dokie It's The Orb On Kompakt" (KOMPAKT CD 45), sowie einige Beiträge zu unseren Speicher- und Pop-Ambient-Serien - viel wichtiger allerdings, daß wir das legendäre Duo auf der Höhe ihrer Schaffenskraft antreffen, eine neue wesentliche Phase einläutend in einer Laufbahn, die nur als bahnbrechend bezeichnet werden kann.

In bekannter Manier hat das neue Werk MOONBUILDING 2703 AD eine eher kleine Tracklist vorzuweisen, baut dafür aber jeden seiner vier Tracks zu Mini-Epen von eigenem Recht um. Der Eröffnungsakt GOD'S MIRRORBALL schwebt einem da vor Ohren, zuerst nur mit einer Handvoll gemütlichen Rauschens bewaffnet, später dann in ein feingliedriges Mosaik von atmosphärischen Melodieskizzen und mitreissenden Rhythmen explodierend. Mit einer hypnotisierenden Lauflänge von über 14 Minuten etabliert das Stück die Blaupause für die folgenden Ereignisse, perfekt die enorme Reichweite der künstlerischen Vision und ihre Fähigkeit zur massenhaften Verführung nichtsahnender Tänzer illustrierend - willkommen in THE ORB's Klanglabyrinth, wo nichts ist wie es scheint und das Unerwartete um jede Ecke lauert.

Ähnlich präsentiert sich der Folgetrack MOONSCAPES 2703 BC als einzigartig vielseitige Angelegenheit, bequem zwischen ambienten Ornamenten und beatgetriebenem Fokus sitzend und mit sovielen Drehungen und Wendungen wie ein Gaunerfilm - doch stets seine Cliffhanger im makellosen Flow erdend. Ein wenig über 9 Minuten lang, ist LUNAR CAVES der kürzeste Entwurf in der Gruppe - und auch der ätherischste, hält er doch die Rhythmusanteile auf einem puls-ähnlichem Minimum und optiert stattdessen für freilaufende Synthie-Texturen. Das letzte Kapitel des Albums schließlich ist auch der Titeltrack: MOONBUILDING 2703 AD besitzt eine überraschend jazzige Note, die sich ziemlich gut in den Reichtum an elektronischen Tricks einfügt, welche hier aus dem Ärmel geschüttelt werden - sogar in rauem Bass schwelgend und eine atemberaubende Vielfalt an Rhythmussektionen aufrufend, die ständig die Plätze tauschen. Es ist ein passender Abschluss für ein derart facettenreiches Album, so idiosynkratisch wie möglich und so anschiebend wie nötig.

“My introduction to “noise” came from a record shop in Lake Worth, Florida ran by a musician named Kenny 5. Kenny had left Detroit sometime in the mid nineties and had begun selling used records and CD’s from the downtown strip of this tiny southern Florida city in a humble shop sandwiched between a deli and a dog grooming business. Kenny previously was on labels like Amphetamine Reptile and timeSTEREO, and the records and videotapes that would be on repeat at his shop were a vast sonic expanse that spoke to the eclecticism of his experience as a touring musician participating and adjacent to American noise culture through the early to late 90’s. In 1998, I was eleven years old and I would order a pizza with him and watch VHS tapes of Japanese noise and deathmatch bootlegs, as well as any other sonic and subcultural rarities that far outstripped my age to comprehend (notably the RRR “Journey Into Pain” compilation and various Vanilla Tapes videos). This widecast net of information formed an introduction to a reality that did not fall deaf on me, but it took many years later for me to reorient the specific freedoms of what this dense and cathartic sound culture had imparted on my life and would continue onward to.

What does this have to do with this selection of choice recordings from the Secret Boyfriend catalog for the enmossed label? For the uninitiated, Secret Boyfriend is the long running moniker of Ryan Martin, North Carolina musician and label proprietor of the Hot Releases imprint. For over a decade from this writing I have watched Secret Boyfriend, and Hot Releases by extension as a curatorial and archival effort, embodying the multiplanal capacity that noise loosely functions from as an umbrella ideology and formalist avenue for sound creation. For anecdotal purposes, from (before) 2006 until roughly 2023 the East Coast of the United States showcased a vibrant network of eclectic regional festivals that saw wide swaths of artists addressing and negotiating the notion of what qualified “noise” from a conceptual and ideological perspective. Some festivals honed in on particularities in aesthetics and tropes, and others had a kind of “catch-all” implementation that allowed for a salvation of the sort of alienated and singular artistry that was amassing throughout these territories. While clear guidelines had been set from regional predecessors as to how noise with a capital “N” should maneuver, Secret Boyfriend is emblematic in the spirit of fluidity that was either implicitly coupled to the notion of the genre, or grew to evolve towards or devolve from.

Within Secret Boyfriend performances, I have seen and admired a mirroring from a ravenous appreciator of this culture at large back towards itself. Typical of a Secret Boyfriend set is an interchangeable narrative arc wherein blistering feedback laden scrap metal improvisations are forayed into naive ambient or “pop” songs, or skipping CDs, or mixer feedback play, or delayed Roland 707 drum workouts all at once and in a unique hegemony. Secret Boyfriend's stylistic mastery of each endeavor is at once an homage to a history of loving listening and enacting, while a brave step into the realm of actualizing the unique fluidity of his own practice. In performance and the action of network engagement, Secret Boyfriend operates a survey of that which he sought to hear and that which he cultivates around his work. His operations are mirrors, and the project (alongside his other peers) is a reflection on the ethos of his time.

Conversely his recording practice narrows in on these moments and allows for a different kind of intimacy or alienation for the non live listener. This record of selected “pop songs” (let's call them that) is particularly poignant at a time when the culture Martin mirrors is at a strange crossroads with itself. The aforementioned festival networks necessarily change and shift. The onlookers become the artists, the artists find new horizons, and the spaces for these cycles fade into locales of a distant memory. It seems, from my perspective, that audiences currently yearn for a more bottlenecked experience, searching for some ontologically vetted manifestation of an idea, of a sound and less for an experience that functions in opposition to our collective banalities. This makes sense in the face of general global catastrophism that plagues us. We need certainty of what something is somewhere, don’t we? Noise as an idea has expanded and contracted to so many iterations of itself it is hard to tell what it even is, and it is particularly difficult to identify in the absence of solid network activations a moment to reflect on its own complexities and nuances. In the face of so much change, I argue that the language of noise culture at large has on one hand become increasingly didactic and predictable, and laughably inclusive and non linear on the other. Probably has always been this way, but now we are in the midst of a moment of extreme access and indexicality, which somehow cauterizes expansion and naivety and chance.

This record highlights the Secret Boyfriend that obscures didacticism by highlighting output that opens up for more challenging catharsis and emotive signal processing. It provides an entry to the materialism of a cultural field full of ecstatic complexity and beautiful inconsistency. In these muted moments Secret Boyfriend has given us over his career we have an argument for evolving languages that further challenge our notions of what is supposed to happen and how it is supposed to be presented. In his more song oriented expansiveness, we can punctuate the ability to think in new modalities. Listening to these recordings reminds me of the polarity of sitting in the record store as a kid and understanding that His Name Is Alive is on 4AD and (gasp!) timeSTEREO. This trite early impression that nothing is really as different as our imaginations might want them to be, and that we can do whatever we want mostly within the creative realms we work through is an important filter to look through Secret Boyfriend as a project and a vessel. If we can achieve abandon and vulnerability through our artistic endeavors, then we have a sound model for, maybe, new potentialities. If that’s too much projection, or just complete liberal bullshit, I am fine with that. Secret Boyfriend's oeuvre at best offers us moments of reprieve to ponder these complexities, or at least a moment to zone out on a drive through North Carolina Highway 54.

You have one pocket of life that you must do whatever you want to inside of. Secret Boyfriend does it affectionately, in a variety of forms, and always with deep sentimentality. These recordings are a wonderful set of songs to begin further investigation from. Thank you Ryan for allowing as many avenues as possible to continue a broad cultural exchange and conversation that intersect and refract while being the kind of artist that is brave enough to not phone in the effort.”

- Nick Klein , May 2024

Prepare to embark on a sonic odyssey as CRIMEAPPLE and PRESERVATION unveil the inaugural chapter of their groundbreaking trilogy with "EL LEÓN”. The album's title, a nod to the undisputed king of the jungle, serves as a meta-phorical beacon for the unyielding hunger that the lyrical predator has always shown.

On this audio hunting expedition, CRIMEAPPLE, the lyrical monarch, roars with an intensity that mirrors the lion's fe-rocity over a wild musical tapestry provided by PRESERVATION, with each track being a testament to the insatiable appetite and predatory instincts needed to navigate the wilderness of today’s music industry, a game that both artists have never bowed down to but always dominated from the outside in.

CRIMEAPPLE has always proven to be a leader of the pride, with the non-stop grind he’s been putting into his MAN-TECA imprint and with legendary collaborations with producers such as DJ Muggs and DJ Skizz carving his name as one of the prominent stars in the game today.

On the production side, PRESERVATION’s musical journey, whether with long-time collaborator Yasiin Bey (fka Mos Def), or as one half of Dr. Yen Lo with Brooklyn emcee Ka, or through legendary collaborations with the likes of billy woods, MF DOOM, Roc Marci, RZA, Sean Price, Raekwon and countless others, have made him an iconic name in musical alchemy.

As the trilogy begins, "EL LEÓN" stands as the beginning of a new hunting season for the two, where CRIMEAPPLE and PRESERVATION are sure to transcend boundaries and reign supreme.

"“adedemola,” the self-titled album from Fireboy DML, is a deeply personal statement, representing the culmination of years of artistic growth and self-discovery. More than just a collection of songs, it serves as a mirror reflecting the artist's journey through love, loss, and self-actualization. The creative process behind the album was anything but straightforward; it involved navigating the complexities of life, facing personal challenges, and enduring the pain of losing close friends. Yet, it was through these difficult experiences that Fireboy DML found clarity and purpose.

Inspired by love in its many forms—self-love, familial love, and romantic relationships—”adedemola” delves into the emotional depths that define human connection. Fireboy DML explores the importance of cherishing what truly matters, moving beyond the superficial pursuits that often distract from the blessings of family, health, and genuine relationships. In a world that feels increasingly divided, “adedemola” is a call to return to the basics: to embrace love, positivity, and the simple joys of life.

The album stands as the truest expression of the artist's identity yet, embodying the vulnerability and authenticity that fans have come to cherish. It's an invitation to sing, dance, and love with abandon, reminding us all of the power of love to heal and unite."

Emmy-winning composers Kyle Dixon & Michael Stein, best known as the duo behind the score for Netflix’s 'Stranger Thing', have composed the original score for 'The Retaliators' (made by Better Noise Films). The revenge-driven horror thriller is Certified Fresh on Rotten Tomatoes with an audience score of 89% and stars Michael Lombardi (FX’s Rescue Me, the Deuce) and Marc Menchaca (Ozark, Black Mirror), alongside featured appearances from a who’s who of modern active rock chart-leading musicians including Tommy Lee (Motley Crue), Ivan Moody and Zoltan Bathory (Five Finger Death Punch, plus Jacoby Shaddix (Papa Roach).

Even though it came out on a major label, this record sells for hundreds of dollars if you can find it at all (we know…we paid for a copy), and it’s no wonder… it’s the perfect blend of raw R&B passion and smooth, sophisticated soul production. First, the passion part… Willie Tee was a New Orleans pianist and singer best known for recording a series of burnin’ 45s (some cut for Harold Battiste’s short-lived AFO label) during the ‘60s. I’m Only a Man was Willie’s album debut, cut for Capitol in 1970, and he brought the same deep-seated intensity to the record that he did his singles. The difference was, for I’m Only a Man, Willie’s warm, raspy voice was lovingly bathed in spectacular arrangements by H. B. Barnum and produced by the great David Axelrod. Strings, brass, xylophone, bluesy guitar licks, and a funky rhythm section are all percolating inside this record’s grooves, with a daring choice of material that ranges from Cannonball Adderley’s “Walk Tall” to the Bacharach-David nugget “Reach Out for Me” to the self-penned highlights “Mirror” and “Bring On the Heartaches” to the album closer “People” from Funny Girl. Capitol wasn’t known for breaking soul acts at the time, which may explain why this record remains a cult classic; we’re happy to give it the exposure it deserves, with a purple vinyl pressing limited to 1000 copies.

Rob Zombie and Waxwork Records have partnered to release an exclusive, curated line of classic Horror movie soundtracks! “Rob Zombie Presents” features several never-before-released film soundtracks that were personally selected by the singer, songwriter, and filmmaker.

“I have always been a huge fan of movie soundtracks. So I jumped at the opportunity to work with Waxwork on this project.” Says Zombie, “I can’t wait to release these albums. So many of these films are greatly under appreciated and, they all contain such great music. So, to be able to release these deluxe packages is a dream come true.“ - Rob Zombie

Rob Zombie and Waxwork Records are thrilled to announce the debut vinyl release of THE LAST MAN ON EARTH Original Motion Picture Score by Paul Sawtell & Bert Shefter. The Last Man On Earth is a 1964 post-apocalyptic science fiction horror film based on the 1954 novel I Am Legend by Richard Matheson. Starring Vincent Price, the plot follows Dr. Robert Morgan (Price) who lives in a world where the human population is infected by a plague that has turned them into undead, vampiric creatures that cannot stand sunlight, fear mirrors, and are repelled by garlic. Every day, Morgan follows a routine where he marks days off the calendaqr and sets out to hunt the vampires, killing as many as he can and then burning the bodies.

After working together on the successful release of the official soundtracks to Zombie’s films House of 1000 Corpses, The Devils Rejects, 3 From Hell, The Lords of Salem, Halloween 1 & 2, and The Munsters, Zombie explored other ways to collaborate with Waxwork in an effort to unearth, re-master, and release classic, left-of-center Horror soundtracks from films that he is a life-long fan of. The line of soundtracks features deluxe packaging, heavyweight colored vinyl, new artwork by prominent Horror illustrator Graham Humphreys, liner notes and interviews conducted by Rob Zombie with filmmakers and actors. Titles include premiere releases of Spider Baby, Carnival Of Souls, The Last Man On Earth, The House On Haunted Hill, The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires, and many selections from the HAMMER film library.

The first signee to Conway The Machine’s Drumwork Music Group imprint, Jae Skeese helped usher in Drumwork’s 2023 Spring Takeover with his collaborative project with Conway, Pain Provided Profit, the labels first compilation album, Conway The Machine Presents: Drumwork The Album and Skeese’s own Drumwork debut album Abolished Uncertainties.

After releasing focus tracks “Skyscrapers” & “Cantonese Characters” featuring Rome Streetz and Ty Farris, Jae Skeese and Superior have officially released their new collaborative project Testament Of The Times.

Testament Of The Times is produced in its entirety by Superior and features guest appearances from Rome Streetz, OT The Real, Ty Farris and Kota Savia.

“Testament Of The Times is an encapsulation of my current plight in striving to carve out my own unique space in hip-hop; starting from ground level” Jae Skeese testifies. “Anyone that has accomplished anything had a starting point, and different things motivate individuals to push forward. I want to be the voice that helps guide people through the “figuring it out stages” by letting them know they are not alone; sometimes that’s all the reassurance you need to make it to the finish line.”

In the late 90s, the bands that Mike Badger had been part of vanished in the rear-view mirror. The La’s and The Onset were no more. With a young family and his tin-can sculptures emerging as his primary source of income, the evenings in Allerton (south Liverpool) found him quietly strumming his acoustic guitar, careful not to disturb the sleeping children. Weekends often led to the Penny Lane Wine Bar and later to Henry Epstein’s residence, a haven for revelry after closing time. A place where acoustic guitars adorned the walls, and impromptu musical sessions unfolded. In the midnight hours at Henry Epstein’s house, Paul Hemmings conceived the idea of compiling an album featuring Mike’s new tunes, which seemed to carry a basic “pastoral” theme reflective of settled domestic life. Demos were recorded on a porta-studio, and the album, initially titled “Naked and Beyond,” was crafted with starkness and simplicity, adorned with selected embellishments contributed by associates who shared drinks and stages. Recording took place at “The Lab” studio just north of the city, utilizing a Teac 24 Track machine and the warmth of analogue recording. The studio featured an old Italian “Eko” acoustic guitar, a classical guitar, Louis Johnson’s cello arrangements, and Tommy Scott’s backing vocals. Once the core of the album was laid down, the journey continued to Anglesey, to Henry Priestman’s “Gossamer Dome” Studio, where a baby grand piano, Farfisa organ, and “Parrot” accordion were added to enrich the songs with colors, harmonies, and magic, all against the backdrop of a sea view. The front cover of the album was adorned with an objet d’art created from a spiraled frying implement, part of Mike Badger’s “Lost and Found” exhibition. As the need to release the album arose, Mike Badger and his collaborators established their own label, “Viper,” and secured a distributor. The album, titled “Volume,” reflected its creation – from its initial sound considerations to the organic body of work composed in recent years. The recording process, though thorough, embraced imperfections, as Mike Badger believed that completeness emerged from these flaws, giving the performance its distinct character. The spirit of the performance took precedence over perfection, resulting in a product that felt genuine, unfettered, and honest – created simply because it was meant to be made. Now the album turns 25 it is released on vinyl for the first time via Nine X Nine Records.

First Time On Wax! Pressed On White Vinyl! Originally released on July 9th, 2012, only via Soundcloud, Cigarette Boats is NOW available on wax! When Curren$y (aka Spitta Andretti) & Harry Fraud collab, they create classics, something which is most definitely evidenced on 'Cigarette Boats'. The merger of Harry's signature production and Spitta's deadly flow show why XXL Magazine named it the "2012 EP of the Year." The duo decided it was time to make Cigarette Boats available in all formats, releasing the instrumentals exclusively on vinyl. Fraud recalled his audition for Curren$y, after meeting him while working on a Smoke DZA project: "I had met Curren$y briefly for one second at a radio station, but that was the first time we really kicked it. He just asked me to play some beats,

and I played like five beats, and he was just like, 'Yo, I need all of those. We gotta do a little EP with those.'' Those same five beats became the entire sound bed for the 'Cigarette Boats'.

Needle Mythology, the label founded by music writer, author and broadcaster Pete Paphides, is thrilled to announce the signing of the eagerly anticipated debut album by London singer-songwriter and renowned DJ Iraina Mancini. Iraina’s singular pop vision will be known to regular listeners of 6 Music, where her singles ‘Undo The Blue’, ‘Deep End’, ‘Shotgun’ and ‘Do It (You Stole The Rhythm)’ have all been enthusiastically embraced. Iraina's obsession with music stretches back into her early childhood, much of which was spent absorbing her parents’ collection of old 45s, in particular her dad’s Northern Soul records – an alternative education which meant that, by her early 20s, she was a familiar presence in the DJ booth at many discerning London club nights. Her love of French ye-ye, British freakbeat, Brazilian bossa nova, soul, and Turkish psych will be well-known to regular listeners of her Soho Radio show. Having always sung from a young age, Iraina embarked on a string of collaborators such as Jagz Kooner (Sabres Of Paradise), Sunglasses For Jaws (Miles Kane) and Simon Dine (Paul Weller, Noonday Underground) which truly saw her find her metier as a songwriter, conjuring melodies that stand shoulder to shoulder alongside her impeccable influences. Iraina describes her first single for Needle Mythology ‘Cannonball’ as “a celebration of that moment when you meet someone you really fall for and it knocks you for six. It can be a bit scary, but you’ve just got to go with what your intuition is telling you.” Written with Simon Dine, the vertiginous heart-in-mouth abandon of the song perfectly mirrors the circumstances that brought it into being. Iraina cites Jacqueline Taïeb’s 1967 single 7h du Matin as an early inspiration for the song: “There’s such a great energy about that song. Her vocal is amazing and all those stops and starts that grab your attention.” “This is an artist I absolutely love, one of our rising stars at 6Music.“ Lauren Laverne BBC 6Music “Iraina seizes on the best aspects of the past, blurring those impeccable 60s and 70s influences with a touch of modernity.” Clash “Full of femme fatale poise and swooning chanteuse flourishes.” The Times

The concept behind the entire EP revolves around the power of scents, exploring how smells evoke emotions and memories from the past. Doci's fascination with scents and molecular fragrances inspired him to create an EP centered on the emotional experiences tied to different scents. Have you ever noticed how a fragrance can transport you back in time, bringing a rush of memories before your eyes? This EP is born from that very sensation. Needless to say, Doci's infatuation with fragrances significantly contributed to the effectiveness of the project. Hedione (Intro): Begin your odyssey with "Hedione," an atmospheric IDM/Experimental track. This floral molecular scent-inspired introduction gently ushers you into the EP's sensorial realm, setting the stage for a unique auditory adventure. Iso E Super & Ambroxan: Explore the intricate layers of musky, woody, and ambery scents in "Iso E Super" and "Ambroxan." These tracks, weaving through Break/Electro/Drum n' Bass genres with subtle Techno accents, offer a sonic journey that mirrors the nuanced edges of their aromatic inspirations. Each note captures the essence, presenting a balanced dance of rough and light tones. Javanol: Experience the raw energy of "Javanol" a leftfield/break Techno exploration. Reflecting the rough and woody facets of its scent inspiration, this track unfolds with aggressive synths and sounds, immersing you in a visceral encounter. Doc's musical interpretation captures the intensity of scent, creating a distinctive and bold auditory expression. In this EP, Doci skillfully translates fragrance into sound, inviting listeners on a textured expedition through scent-inspired composition

With time, we come to understand the way the joy of connection is mirrored by the void of loss, how the constancy of love is matched only by the impermanence of life, the simple idea that we could not create light if we did not risk the dark - we'd never need to. So it is with METZ, a band once known for blowing out eardrums with songs of joyous rage who have, over their past few records, begun exploring ways to turn abrasiveness into atmospherics, the evolution of their sound not only a reflection of the maturing of the band themselves but also of a changed world that demands nuance and compassion to comprehend and to survive. It was a journey already underway on 2020's Atlas Vending, but one that reaches new heights on Up On Gravity Hill, where the Canadian trio creates a kaleidoscopic sonic world as tender as it is dark, aided once again by engineer Seth Manchester (Mdou Moctar, Lingua Ignota, Battles, The Body). Deep, detailed, and unyieldingly personal, it is not only METZ's most powerful record to date but also their most beautiful. Still three punks from Ontario at heart, guitarist and vocalist Alex Edkins, drummer Hayden Menzies, and bassist Chris Slorach waste no time as opener "No Reservation/Love Comes Crashing" sweeps in like a wave, sonically and thematically setting the scene for the record to come. A dynamic song about feeling suspended in stasis, layers of dissonance melt into a restlessly heady outro marked by escalating crescendos of shimmering noise that reach for the stars - and is that a violin quivering brightly beneath those elegant swells of guitar, those charging drum fills, those intricate bass lines? It is indeed, courtesy of composer Owen Pallett; his presence an immediate indicator that METZ are thinking more cinematically than ever before. The change is partially inspired by Edkins' work as a scorer for film and television and his pop-leaning solo project, Weird Nightmare, where, he says, he learned to write more intuitively, letting his emotions lead the way. But make no mistake: Up On Gravity Hill is a total band effort, the work of three musicians who have been playing together for over a decade, with all the trust that entails. For those who believe in the power of the rock band to exemplify the highest resonance of human connection, there is much on Up On Gravity Hill to lift the spirit, a puzzle worth repeated listening to unlock or just to get lost in again and again. Rather than the music being flattened into a single plane, the band explores "the space above the cymbals," resulting in some of the most spacious, sympathetic, and accessible songs - could we call them pop? - of their career. If this seems contradictory, well, METZ has always been something of a contradiction. "We've never been heavy enough for metal or hardcore purists, but we're way too heavy for indie rock. We just don't have a lane - and that's okay. We exist outside the lines of delineation. I think this record is even more like that," says Edkins.

Empires rise and fall every day in the human heart, and riding these cycles--stories with no beginning or end, only transformation--churns us through the reckless, ridiculous, rueful, redemptive. A founding member of Lake Street Dive and writer of some of their most enduring songs, Iowa-born and Brooklyn-based Bridget Kearney is known for writing smart, unexpected lyrics and melodies built for a heart-baring dance or an introspective drive. Kearney writes music as if filtered through a camera lens. Her stories, steeped in nostalgia and joy, construct a bittersweet framework around the memories that make us human, and shape who we are. As the absurdity of life abounds, Kearney can hold these fragile snapshots and rolling reruns with evident notes of levity, and compassion for a past self. On her new album Comeback Kid, produced by Dan Molad (Lucius, Buck Meek), there are reminders to cherish the moments that make up the collage of what we see in the mirror, but to also plant our feet firmly in the present, for those are the times that will come to form the future. The tracks hop through time, from the relentless, obsessive romanticization of the past, to unrestrained lust for a different future, all inherit the spirit of resilience needed for any move forward, whether it's to dive back in, walk away, or wrestle with the memory itself. In moments, our Comeback Kid wishes to encase a night in amber to revive it at will, like the old man in Jurassic Park, but ultimately is hip to the bittersweet truth that it will never be the same when you return. Kearney began making Comeback Kid back in 2021, in between her work with Lake Street Dive, and a new position as a songwriting teacher at Princeton University. During the process of Comeback Kid, Kearney took inspiration from her Princeton students, as well as her peers when she embarked on a song-a-day workshop. As she found herself surrounded by the thoughts and processes of others, she was able to pinpoint what it is about songwriting that she truly cherishes: namely, the textures and flourishes that come to form the mood of each creation. Comeback Kid is soaked in vintage synths, Kearney's soughing vocals and delicate-yet-driving percussion that ushers in a bright and serene tenor. "If you're driving, baby I wanna go," she soothes on opener "If You're Driving," welcoming us to the LP with windows down, eyes closed, air rushing through our fingers. It's a celebration of staying in the moment, of saying "yes," even though you know it won't last forever. With references to real psychological games, like Rorschach tests and the phenomenon of Ironic Process Theory, they help build the theme of the mind bending nature of obsession, memory, and perspective. Just like the acrobatic brain games we play in relationships, Kearney plays with language and references, with multiple meanings of "comebacks and coming back," and nods that run the gamut from Samuel Barber's mid-20th century masterpiece Adagio for Strings to Jerry Seinfeld's late-20th century masterpiece Seinfeld. The single "Security Camera" captures the carefree liminal space of reminiscence, as Kearney collects those significant, special moments of a past love. There is no animosity or even sorrow here but rather a warm, propulsive rush of gratitude and awe. "You have these really wonderful, blissful times in your life that are fleeting," she explains. "It's an attempt to keep loving the moments in your past, to carry them with you." These moments are carried with care throughout Comeback Kid, but with an eye on the farcicality of simply existing. Kearney is both sincere and silly, somber yet spirited, expertly gathering the iridescent spectrum of what it means to be alive.

Out of print as a stand-alone release for decades since its original 1974 issue. Produced by George Harrison, Shankar Family & Friends is an almost-forgotten masterwork – an emotional and sonic pact between two like-minded souls to both advance their spiritually minded bond and unite musical styles, cultures, and sounds in wondrous fashion Contributions from Ringo Starr, David Bromberg, Billy Preston, Nicky Hopkins, Jim Keltner, Klaus Voorman, and a host of virtuosic Indian musicians add to a diverse album that melds Eastern and Western traditions; encompasses jazz, funk, bhajan, Indian, and pop; and represents the spirit and breadth of Harrison's Dark Horse Records imprint.

Memorable contributions from an A-list of American and English musicians — Ringo Starr (drums), David Bromberg (electric guitar), Billy Preston (organ), Nicky Hopkins (piano), Jim Keltner (drums), Klaus Voorman (bass), Robert Margouleff (Moog), Malcolm Cecil (Moog), Tom Scott (saxophone) included — add to the richness of a set that melds Eastern and Western traditions. These “names” mesh with a host of Indian virtuosos — Alla Rakha, Ashish Khan, Kamala Chakravarty, Hariprasad Chaurasia included — who turn Shankar Family & Friends into a journey laced with percussive, string, and vocal components that aren’t soon forgotten.

Throughout, Shankar Family & Friends remains true to its title — a mesmerizing record named to reflect the group participation approach of its creators. The idea started when Shankar told Harrison about a ballet he wrote. The Beatle, who first met Shankar in June 1966 — roughly a year after Harrison became interested in Indian music after overhearing it in a restaurant while filming Help! — immediately was convinced they needed to record it. Harrison’s staunch admiration of Shankar and serious approach to Eastern styles are reflected throughout the album.

Indeed, for Harrison, Shankar Family & Friends marks the culmination of a years-long effort to master the sitar, study Hinduism, and incorporate elements such as drones, unusual chords, and expressive picking into his own songs. The seeds of this unique collaboration can be heard in Beatles works such as “Norwegian Wood,” “Love to You,” and “Within You Without You.” Both musicians were also fresh from performing at the 1971 Concert for Bangladesh shows. Yet Shankar Family & Friends remains entirely unique in each visionary artist’s history — and ultimately, led to a collaborative tour Harrison and Shankar staged across North America.

Encompassing jazz, funk, bhajan, Indian, and pop, Shankar Family & Friends is thematically split into halves. Side One reveals Shankar’s uncanny ear for melody — even when applied to Western forms. The lead-off “I Am Missing You,” the first single ever released by Dark Horse Records and reportedly the first pop composition Shankar completed, underscores his skills as a composer and global ambassador. Beautifully sung across three octaves by his sister-in-law, Lakshmi Shankar, the devotional song features multiple drummers and production that mirrors Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound approach. Harrison plays autoharp and guitar; Starr sits in on drums; Scott handles flute and soprano saxophone. It’s the inviting start of a musical adventure teeming with color, majesty, and mysticism.

A second version of the track — designated with a “(Reprise)” tag — appears minutes later. Unfolding in different ways, it follows a folk ballad structure stitched together with Indian instrumentation. Here, according to Shankar, the musicians “attempted to convey the sounds and atmosphere of Vrindavan, the ancient holy place where Krishna grew up.” Both renditions speak to the cross-continental fusion that came so naturally to Harrison and Shankar, whose oversight on the side’s other vocal tracks ensures listeners familiar with Western methods gain easy access to the hypnotic allure of his native country’s music.

Nowhere is this more evident than on Dream, Nightmare & Dawn (Music for a Ballet), the side-long piece that served as the genesis for Shankar Family & Friends. Launched with an airy overture and unfolding across three movements, the mostly wordless suite features everything from call-and-response interplay and classical lyricism to uptempo dance figures, stacked rhythms, and intoxicating grooves. Blurring the lines between contemporary and traditional, and Western and Eastern, the inspirational work is the exclamation point on a record that defined “world music” well before the term became co-opted as a catch-all genre.

Based on David Nicholls’ globally best-selling book, the TV serialisation of One Day has already proved hugely popular with audiences and critics alike.

Multi award-winning screenwriter Nicole Taylor (Wild Rose, 3 Girls, The Nest) adapted the novel for Drama Republic and Netflix.

The story follows Emma (Ambika Mod - This is Going To Hurt) and Dexter (Leo Woodall - The White Lotus) who speak for the first time on their graduation day in 1988.

They go their separate ways but meet once a year on the anniversary as their relationship and lives evolve.



“We wanted to create a score that celebrates the love story between Dex and Em and also reflects the nostalgia for lost time and lost love that they feel, and viewers can relate to.

The music had to follow their journey as their relationship evolves over the years, but still feel like it was rooted in one place.

In other words, we needed to mirror the very different lives and emotions they experience over twenty years ranging from excitement, humour, anger and heartbreak.”

Composers Anne Nikitin, Jessica Jones, Tim Morrish



The score also features tracks from Jessica and Tim under their artist moniker Vanbur, widely acclaimed in their own right, including ‘Last Look’ and ‘Falling Colour’.

Powerhouse R&B/Soul vocalist and Canadian Idol finalist. Gary Beals, is thrilled to be releasing his new album, The Melody Within. The Melody within is a musical journey that unfolds across two sides, much like a story that reveals new layers with each turn. The album is more than just a collection of songs; it's an emotional guide that beckons us to explore the depths of our own feelings and explores navigating emotions, self discovery, and nostalgia through soulful melodies. "This album serves as the aftermath to my previous album, "Bleed My Truth". It's a continuation of my musical journey, a fusion of soulful melodies and diverse influences that mirror both my personal and artistic evolution," said Gary Beals. "Each song is a chapter, a piece of my heart and soul, inviting listeners into my world of emotions, experiences and connection. It uncovers the melody that resides within. The anticipation is building as I look forward to sharing this collection of new music, and I hope it resonates deeply, offering a meaningful and memorable musical experience enriched with a multitude of emotions." With this new body of work, Gary had the opportunity to work with two talented primary producers,Beatchild (Drake, Justin Nozuka, Glen Lewis) and Myles "Losh'' Schwartz (Allan Rayman, Tobi, The Game, Pretty Lights). Additional production credits on the album include, Chris Guirguis, Frizzy Astro (Raz Fresco, Daniel Son), Jordan "Tempo" Farmer, Kobebeats (Rodwave, Kcamp, Sevyn),Sid Aakowa, Ty Danelley (Popcaan, Tory Lanez, Pressa) and Warren Williams, who all helped to shape the makings of the album while maintaining a consistent synergy. Side A of the album draws inspiration from the likes of Al Green, Aretha Franklin, Otis Redding, Marvin Gaye, and James Brown, and pays homage to artists who have played an integral part in shaping Gary's musical roots. This side includes Gary's previously released singles, "Good People, Good Vibes" and "All of Me," and the album's title track "The Melody Within," that commends the process of self-discovery and introspection. Also included is the album's 5th single, "Self Revolution," which will be released on October 27th along with the official music video. On Side B, you'll encounter a fusion of R&B and pop elements while still staying true to the album's soulful essence. Included on this side, is Gary's third single "I Like That," featuring JRDN and KAYO ,and the new single "How Do I Say (I Love You)," released September 22nd. "How Do I Say (I Love You)" dives into the inner conflict of conveying affection, showing vulnerability, and the bravery needed to expose one's heart to someone else. About Gary Beals: Two decades ago, Gary embarked on his musical journey when he, a small-town kid from Nova Scotia (now calling Toronto home), made a remarkable entrance onto the national stage as a part of Canada's inaugural season of Canadian Idol. This month marks the 20th anniversary of the finale where Gary was crowned as the "runner up" on the show. The experience ignited a transformative period of self-reflection and discovery that propelled Gary toward personal growth, shaping his life and musical career in lasting ways.

Fast forward through three albums and twenty years, Gary's work and talent have made a remarkable impact and received widespread critical acclaim. Among his accomplishments are debuting in the top 10 of the Canadian sales chart, being nominated for a JUNO Award for "Best R&B/Soul Recording," winning an East Coast Music Award and seven African Nova Scotia Music Awards, as well as scoring nominations for an Urban Music Award and a Canadian Radio Music Award. These accomplishments led to his home province's Premier officially designating November 22nd as Gary Beals Day in acknowledgment of his achievements.

With his return, Gary is poised to make a positive impact on the ever-expanding global community as he prepares to release his new album The Melody Within. The album will stand as a tribute to the strength that resides within all of us and a reminder that true fulfillment comes not just from achieving goals, but from discovering the intricate beauty that lies within our own hearts and souls.

Craig Charles is a big supporter of Gary Beals and spun his single 'All Of Me' for three weeks in a row on his Funk and Soul Show on BBC Radio Six

Unknown Mortal Orchestra came to life in basements and bedrooms, the musical vision of Portlander-via-New Zealand Ruban Nielson that fused guitar-god riffs, choppy percussion, soul and funk. II, the sophomore album from UMO, emerged in an era rampant hedonism and isolationism and became the blueprint for everything Nielson has become renowned for. It was, and is, the solidification of Unknown Mortal Orchestra as an endlessly intriguing, brave and addictive band. Ten years on, it's back with an expanded edition. Written during a punishing, debauched touring schedule during which Nielson feared for both his sanity and health, II illustrates the emotional turmoil of life on the road, painting surrealist, cartoonish portraits of loneliness, love and despair. These conflicting themes are evident immediately; on the album's sleeve is an unnerving image of Janet Farrar, the famous British witch, Wiccan, author and teacher of witchcraft. The chilling refrain of opener "Into The Sun" sees Nielson deliver the line "Isolation can put a gun in your hand," softly, his words starkly intelligible above a warm, slow-burning melody that quickly brands itself onto your brain. His playful imagery ("I'm so lonely I've gotta eat my popcorn all alone") mirrors the melody, before a solo that borders on psychotropic ends II`s introduction. UMO is unafraid to dig deeper than the rest, their intoxicating, opiate groove bringing rock'n'roll's exaggerated myths to life. And as it unfolds, II does find Nielson reenergized. "One At A Time" and "Faded In The Morning" boast dizzying choruses and instrumentals; these crusty hunks could have been excavated from a lost 1960s treasure trove. "Monki" unravels over seven minutes like the yarn from a stoner's cardigan with an eye-frying pattern. "Dawn" is a minute of disconcerting noise that stands out between the nooks and crannies of the choruses, guitar solos, groove-heavy bass and drums that were recorded live by newly-recruited drummer Greg Rogove and Kody Nielson in a move away from the electronic percussion employed on album one. II closes with "Secret Xtians," a tender observational puzzle that fizzes to a satisfied end. In celebration of the album's 10th anniversary Nielson's complete collection from the II era is finally available in one compilation, and features the five acoustic tracks from the Blue EP as well as two additional B-sides. Unknown Mortal Orchestra was once Nielson's closeted concern. With an album that uses his singular musical imagination and extraordinary talent to parade his emotions with unyielding honesty, it is now a fully realized band operating at the peak of its powers ten years on.

KOU is the new project by Apolline Schöser (half of Nina Harker) & Thomas Coquelet.

Apolline & Thomas have been performing since 2022 under the KOU guise with 24 electronic harmoniums. Producing dense layers of tones & overtones. On their debut album KOU steers in another direction. The harmonium appears occasionally, but more prominent are delicate guitar pluckings, distant vocal effects, synths, flutes, piano strokes, a touch of musical magic and Apolline’s jazz not jazz vocals.

As soon as the needle drops it’s clear we are jump-cutting straight to the other side of the mirror. Cats purr, a woman sings as if asleep, drum machines stutter and warp and Alvin Lucier is not 'sitting in a room that is not different to the one you are not in now’. If you’re already confused, join the club. But, it’s the good kind of confused, a bewildering experience akin to the first time hearing the Faust Tapes or watching Inland Empire. Wait though, as pigeons coo and the tape machine clunk-clicks a gorgeous weirdo version of Roger's and Hart’s Blue Moon emerges to let you know this isn’t just dada splurge, there’s a genius pop sensibility at work here too. Side two takes us further into the murk with mournful detuned brass, stoned Joan La Barbara-esque vocalese and a droning Farfisa hymn, before ending with another too-tempting snatch of DIY pop. Some of the references are recognisable. All kinds of 70s/80s European art prog - think early Battiato, Pierot Lunaire’s Gudrun, Lucia Bosè and Gregorio Paniagua's Io Pomodoro etc etc. There’s a strong whiff of 90s us goof-off surrealism too- Bongwater, Siltbreeze, Royal Trux’s Twin infinitives, the damaged folkier side of Alastair Galbraith, Half-Japanese, early Beck even all feel relevant.

Like an oddball group of friends you might meet by chance and end up weirding-out with for days, the minds behind this deliciously odd music allow you to stay for a while in their strange subcultural world. You might not want to live here forever but a short trip, while it lasts, rewires your brain for the better.

LP SHIPPING ONLY / CD DELAYED “This is definitely the most honest and mature record Deathchant has ever made.” That’s Deathchant vocalist and guitarist T.J. Lemieux talking about the band’s third and latest album, Thrones. Think of it as not just the follow-up to 2021’s Waste, but the other side of the coin. “While Waste and our self-titled album touched on similar themes, they were sort of from a problem standpoint,” he explains. “Thrones is full of reflection, self-realization, and solutions for moving forward and conquering those problems.” Which isn’t to say that Deathchant have gone soft. Far from it, dude. In fact, Thrones just might be their heaviest record thus far. The band’s seamless swirl of classic rock guitar harmonies, syrupy sludge, blues boogie and psych bombast has reached a thrilling new apex as Lemieux spins high-powered tales of reckoning from beyond the wall of sanity. Thematically, Lemieux and his bandmates—bassist George Camacho, guitarist Doug Stuckey and drummer Joe Herzog—peel back the veneer of self-delusion to expose the fork in the road. “Thrones is meant to represent things that rule you, things you worship, things you rely on or think you need,” Lemieux says. “Sometimes those things make you feel in control, safe, on top of the world like you're in power—which over time often proves untrue.” Witness lead single “Mirror”: Kicking off with gleaming Lizzy-isms, the song rumbles into a thick groove overlaid with lysergic fireworks that conjure the shaggy European movers of decades past. “‘Mirror’ is the key to the whole Thrones theme,” Lemieux explains. “It’s about looking inward to realize what's ruling you, what's consuming you, and how delusional you've been about those things. Your sense of self is so damn important, and fully facing your truths is not an easy thing to do. It’s admitting that you’ve intentionally dulled and quieted your mind to distract, avoid and run from yourself, from memory, from loss and truth. At some point, you have to face that shit.” The languid and dreamy “Mother Mary” is also crucial to Thrones’ trajectory. “If the album was a book, ‘Mirror’ would be the first chapter and ‘Mother Mary’ would be the last chapter, though they’re not the first and last track for sonic reasons,” Lemieux explains. “‘Mirror’ is saying, ‘I’m looking inward because some things need to change,’ while ‘Mother Mary’ is saying, ‘Okay, things are fucked and have gone way too far but now we have this understanding—and acknowledging things is key to overcoming.’” Thrones was recorded live in a cabin in the remote mountain community of Frazier Park, CA, with trusty engineer Steve Schroeder (a.k.a. Schroeds). “We moved in for a week, rehearsed a bit and went for it,” Lemieux says. “Each tune got three or so takes, but we nailed ‘Mother Mary’ and ‘Canyon’ right away.” Overdubs were done at the cabin, Schroeder’s Studio 3, and Lemieux’s place. The album was produced by Lemieux and Schroeder. “Overall, it’s a pretty dark record,” Lemieux says. “It's serious and leans into heavy themes, sometimes using metaphor and imagery to soften those blows, but sometimes it hits direct. It’s positive, though—and cathartic. Forever riding on the line of total insanity and flirting with mental degradation. It’s our most realized and ambitious record to date.”

When Kronos plays a piece, they become fellow composers, true collaborators. Without them, we wouldn’t have the kind of string quartet playing that we find around us today. There are two kinds of string quartet playing: the ‘Before Kronos’ and the ‘After Kronos’.” – Philip Glass

‘Kronos Quartet has broken the boundaries of what string quartets can do.’ – New York Times

Nonesuch releases Kronos Quartet’s acclaimed album Kronos Quartet Performs Philip Glass on vinyl for the first time to coincide with Kronos Quartet: Five Decades, a year-long celebration marking the quartet’s 50th anniversary. Originally released in 1995, the album features David Harrington (violin), John Sherba, (violin), Hank Dutt (viola) and Joan Jeanrenaud (cello) performing Quartet No. 2 (Company) (1983), No. 3 (Mishima) (1985), No. 4 (Buczak) (1990), and No. 5 (1991), the first piece Glass wrote especially for Kronos. Recorded at Skywalker Sound in California, the album was produced by Judith Sherman, Kurt Munkacsi and Philip Glass. The cover art features Francesco Clemente’s painting The Four Corners (1985). At the time of the album’s release, the New York Times said, ‘It contains some of Glass's best music since Koyaanisqatsi. His ear for sumptuous string sonorities is undeniable,’ while the Washington Post called it ‘An ideal combination of composer and performers.’ It was a top 10 hit on Billboard’s Top Classical Albums, and spent 12 weeks on Billboard’s Classical chart.



In his original liner note, critic Mark Swed wrote, ‘Glass’ string quartets may contain his most intimate music. They are works through which a very public composer, perhaps the most important opera reformer of our age and a longstanding collaborator in large-scale music theater, holds up a mirror to himself and his way of composing. “In an odd way,” Glass explains, “string quartets have always functioned like that for composers. I don’t really know why, but it’s almost impossible to get away from it. It’s the way composers of the past have thought and that’s no less true for me. It’s almost as if we say we’re going to write a string quartet, we take a deep breath, and we wade in to try to write the most serious, significant piece that we can.” Glass says that as he sat down to write String Quartet No. 5, he had discovered that perhaps not taking a serious tone might be the most serious way to deal with it. “I was thinking that I had really gone beyond the need to write a serious string quartet and that I could write a quartet that is about musicality, which in a certain way is the most serious subject.”’



Glass’ first numbered quartet was written in 1966; however, he did not return to the string quartet medium until 1983, when he provided incidental music for a dramatization of Samuel Beckett’s prose poem, Company. During those 17 years, Glass had formed an ensemble and developed his style in a series of increasingly elaborate pieces for it. String Quartet No. 3 is also adapted to dramatic music, this time from his score to the 1985 Paul Schrader film, Mishima. It was with the music of Mishima that Kronos became associated with Glass, recording the string quartet sections of the soundtrack and subsequently working extensively with the composer on all five of his numbered quartets. Kronos also gave the first concert performances of Company and Mishima. String Quartet No. 4 was composed in remembrance of the artist Brian Buczak, who died of AIDS in 1988.



As Kronos’ anniversary season continues with further concerts around the world, Nonesuch will reissue Black Angels on vinyl on February 16. First released in 1990, the award-winning album includes George Crumb’s title piece, which inspired David Harrington to found the quartet. Called ‘an unusually elevated and searing Vietnam War protest’ by the New York Times, it sets a dark, powerful tone for this collection, which addresses the political/physical/spiritual consequences of war. Also featured are works by Charles Ives, István Márta, Thomas Tallis, and Dmitri Shostakovich. ‘Stylishly packaged, intelligently programmed, superbly recorded and brilliantly performed,’ proclaimed Gramophone. ‘In short, very much the sort of disc we’ve come to expect from the talented and imaginative Kronos Quartet.’ The Evening Standard included it among its ‘100 Definitive Classical Albums of the 20th Century’.



Born in Baltimore, Maryland, in 1937, Philip Glass is a graduate of the University of Chicago and the Juilliard School. By 1974, he 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, theatre, orchestra, and film. His scores have received Academy Award nominations (including Kundun and The Hours, as well as Notes on a Scandal) and a Golden Globe (The Truman Show). Recent works include his memoir, Words Without Music, his 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 featuring Kronos Quartet. Over the years other Glass works on Nonesuch have included Einstein on the Beach (1993), Kronos Quartet Performs Philip Glass (1995), Music in Twelve Parts (1996), Glass Box (2008), as well as the soundtracks for Powaqqatsi (1988), Kundun (1997), Koyaanisqatsi (1998), and The Hours (2002), amongst others.



For 50 years, San Francisco’s Kronos Quartet – David Harrington (violin), John Sherba (violin), Hank Dutt (viola), and Paul Wiancko (cello) – has challenged and reimagined what a string quartet can be. Founded at a time when the form was largely centred on long-established, Western European traditions, Kronos has been at the forefront of revolutionizing the string quartet into a living art form that responds to the people and issues of our time. In the process, Kronos has become one of the most celebrated and influential groups of our era, performing thousands of concerts worldwide, releasing more than 70 recordings of extraordinary breadth and creativity, and collaborating with many of the world’s most accomplished composers and performers. Through its nonprofit organization, Kronos Performing Arts Association, Kronos has commissioned more than 1,000 works and arrangements for string quartet – including the Kronos Fifty for the Future library of free, educational repertoire. Kronos has received more than 40 awards, including three Grammy Awards and the Polar Music, Avery Fisher, and Edison Klassiek Oeuvre Prizes.



Kronos is prolific and wide-ranging on recordings. The ensemble’s expansive discography on Nonesuch includes three Grammy-winning albums: Terry Riley’s Sun Rings (2019), Landfall with Laurie Anderson (2018), and Alban Berg’s Lyric Suite featuring soprano Dawn Upshaw (2003); the 40th-anniversary boxed set Kronos Explorer Series; Nuevo (2002), a Grammy- and Latin Grammy–nominated celebration of Mexican culture; Pieces of Africa (1992), a showcase of African-born composers that simultaneously topped Billboard’s Classical and World Music charts; and Folk Songs (2017), Nonesuch’s 50th album with Kronos, which featured Sam Amidon, Olivia Chaney, Rhiannon Giddens, and Natalie Merchant singing traditional folk songs.

"Fast Rate" blends echoes of nostalgia with futuristic innovation, crafting a sonic landscape. In the relentless rush of life's high-speed journey, it invites introspection, courageously urging listeners to delve into the intricate web of contemporary life.
This EP is inspired by deep reflections on the meaning of life in a fast-paced world filled with thoughts and emotions. It symbolizes a futuristic journey, mirroring the human struggle to gain an external perspective in our busy lives. Random Alias prompts users to contemplate their existence, offering a musical experience that transcends mere dance rhythms.
The 5 tracker showcases a wide array of sounds, from aggressive tones to captivating and atmospheric elements unveiling a new face of the label that keeps exploring the interconnection between human and technology.
The A side roars with high bpm and furious rhythms."Keep me high" express the need of escaping ordinary life, seeking something that keeps us "high" and allows to escape and reset.
Following up "Fast Rate" spans a variety of influences, blending the allure of old-school Detroit electro with futuristic sounds achieved through bold experimentation and advanced wave modeling. This fusion results in a diverse and innovative sonic aesthetic, ranging from nostalgic '80s/'90s vibes to experimental dimensions where tones morph and evolve.
"Solo in Space" and "Restless" on the filp side deliver direct, pulsating sounds and rhythms, embracing an impactful electro-techno vision. These tracks merge both worlds, combining the energy and drive of electro with the power and tension typical of techno, resulting in a sonic journey that blurs genre boundaries.
Completing the collection is a digital bonus track, "Galactic Power," which serves as a soulful embodiment of the EP's essence. With its otherworldly alien-style pitched vocals,The track intricately crafts a cosmic palette of bright pulses and ethereal FM synthesis.
This release represents a bold and progressive vision of electro, confirming and solidifying the eclectic direction and the concept of inter genre flexibility. Music can be an ever-evolving form of art, blending elements that transport listeners to distant cosmic realms.
Time shapes people, people shape technology, technology shapes music, music shapes time.

DELUXE 8LP BOXSET FROM THEIR ‘CAPITOL YEARS’, WITH STUDIO ALBUM HALF-SPEED MASTERING, LP OF BONUS TRACKS, 60 PAGE BOOK, POSTERS & NUMBERED CERTIFICATE

Currently on the 40 Years Live World Tour and sounding better than ever, W.A.S.P. is one of the most consistent and reliable forces in rock music - unstoppable and unassailable, like a heavy metal juggernaut sent back in time from a long, distant galaxy. Frontman Blackie Lawless is undoubtedly one of rock’s everlasting figures – someone’s whose attitude and vision changed the musical landscape around him, in the process bearing fruit to some of the biggest anthems of their time.

Their first five studio albums (W.A.S.P., The Last Command, Inside the Electric Circus, The Headless Children & The Crimson Idol) contributed enough on their own for W.A.S.P. to be considered one of the greatest rock bands of all-time. Those LPs are all presented in this set, mastered half-speed at Air Studios, London, for a superior, sharper, more direct and engaging sound.

Packaged within a deluxe red leatherette effect double slipcase, The 7 Savage: 1984-1992 is completed on vinyl with two more LPs: 1987’s Live… in the Raw and new compilation Bonus Tracks & B-Sides featuring the controversial breakthrough anthem ‘Animal (F**k Like a Beast)’.

Compiled with the full cooperation of Blackie Lawless, the box set also includes a 60-page book with exclusive and rare pictures from legendary metal photographers (including Ross Halfin, Tony Mottram, David Plastik and Paul Natkin), along with extensive liner notes from Amit Sharma (Kerrang!, Planet Rock). Also included is an exclusive Blackie Lawless poster, plus an individually numbered circular saw shaped certificate.

The 7 Savage: 1984-1992 will be released Friday 27th October 2023 on Madfish and is strictly limited to 2000 copies worldwide.






















































[yb] L.2. Phantoms In The Mirror [04:36] D.3. The Eulogy

A Boogie Wit da Hoodie veröffentlicht Vinyl-Version seines aktuellen Albums " Me vs. Myself ".

Die Doppel-LP ist ab 20. Oktober im Handel erhältlich.
Der globale Multi-Platin-Superstar A Boogie Wit da Hoodie ist seit seinem Erscheinen in der Szene im Jahr 2016 eine Kraft, mit der man rechnen muss. Der aus der Bronx stammende Rapper wurde von der New York Times als "der vielversprechendste junge Rapper, den die Stadt seit einiger Zeit hervorgebracht hat" bezeichnet und kann bis heute fast 18 Milliarden globale Streams und über 50 RIAA-Platin- und Gold-Zertifizierungen vorweisen.

Mit einem dynamischen Katalog weltbekannter Hits ("My Shit", "Drowning (feat. Kodak Black)", "Swervin", "Look Back At It" und mehr) und drei von der Kritik gefeierten Alben (HOODIE SZN, THE BIGGER ARTIST und ARTIST 2.0) hat A Boogie bewiesen, dass er einer der hellsten Stars der Musikindustrie ist.

A Boogie ist auch einer der gefragtesten Kollaborateure der Musikbranche und hat mit einer Vielzahl von Künstlern zusammengearbeitet, von Ed Sheeran, Maroon 5 und Khalid bis hin zu Chris Brown, DJ Khaled, Paulo Londra, Meek Mill, Pop Smoke und vielen anderen.

*2026 Repress**

Self recorded in 1984 to 4 track tape. Rhythmical patterns meet well balanced distortion, shaping the music into a mirror of his character, creating a unique blend of lo fi blue eyed soul jazz. TIP!!

Ronald was part of several Dutch Latin and Jazz bands, including Cascada and Ritmo Natural. With the latter he performed at Holland’s North Sea Jazz Festival. At this point Ronald is 78 years old, playing music every day.

Instruments: Acoustic Piano, Fender Rhodes Piano, Farfisa Organ, String Ensemble, Tenor Sax, Alt Sax, Soprano Sax, Clarinet, Alt Clarinet, Organ Bass, Micro Moog, Drums, Longa & Voices.

Freak Frequency was a fitting title for the new material Greg Obis was planning for Stuck, the frenetic and twisted post-punk outfit he formed in 2018. Inspired by the doomy social economics of Mark Fisher’s Capitalist Realism, the bleak worldbuilding of horror games Demon’s Souls and Bloodborne, and the bombastic yet arty satire of Devo, Obis channelled his audio analogy into Freak Frequency, an album ringing out with explosive sounds and ideas.

Stuck formed after Obis’ previous projects, Yeesh and Clearance, called it quits in short proximity. Obis is on guitar and vocals, which span from booming theatrics to ecstatic yelps. The project’s rhythm section is completed by shoegaze guitarist-turned-chugging bassist David Algrim and tightly wound drummer Tim Green—also a graphic designer, and the artist responsible for Stuck’s distinctively unified visual aesthetic. Original co-guitarist Donny Walsh contributed freely inventive lines for the first few years of the project, including on Freak Frequency; Ezra Saulnier of Red Tunic, the newest member of the band, now brings calculated contrapuntal riffs to match Obis’ parts.

The building blocks of Stuck include the egg punk eccentricities of Uranium Club and The Coneheads filtered through noise rock power, à la Jesus Lizard or Slint; that melange is glittered with the precision microtones of Unwound and Women. “I want the feeling of immersion and chaos and tension, with a big guitar amp playing a big chord,” says Obis of his inspirations, citing friends and peers Cloud Nothings and Preoccupations. “But I want it delivered by having a lot of smaller points of light poking through.”

In fact, writing for Freak Frequency began while Content’s recording was still underway—beginning with “Scared,” which features acoustic layers under feedback squalls. “Time Out,” with motoric guitars in the sputtering lineage of Wire, was also composed in late 2019. Obis wrote it about the cycles of compulsion and shame woven into social media use, and the way negativity drives algorithmic engagement. It became an exciting exercise for the group in ramping up speed; “I thought I knew how far I could push Tim’s tempos,” Obis recalls. “But Tim kept insisting we do it 20 bpm faster than what I had. He is an absolute monster for playing that.”

Album opener “The Punisher,” a spiral staircase of disembodied guitars and rhythmic slams over a 2/4 beat, came in the aftermath of the January 6 insurrection. It felt immediately emblematic to Freak Frequency, and Obis describes it as his favorite Stuck track: one he wishes he could write again and again. “It hits all the boxes that Stuck can do: it’s goofy, but there’s a lot of intricate guitar interplay, and at the end, there’s a big payoff,” he explains. The last song written was “Do Not Reply,” a pre-album single that came to Obis after engineering for Melkbelly and channelling their earworm melodies. Algrim wouldn’t let it on the record unless Melkbelly’s front person Miranda Winters dueted on vocals; she was happy to oblige, and the gritty epic closes Freak Frequency.

With slippery snark, percussive heft, and funhouse mirrors of sludge, Freak Frequency delivers its needed screeds with gratifying nuance. If Stuck’s interpretation of this messed-up world goes down like a bitter pill, it’s only because its sugar coating is too delicious to keep from eating.

In an era defined by futility, isolation, and precarity, it can be difficult to envision a utopia. But on Skeleten’s thrilling, immersive debut album, Under Utopia, the Sydney musician dares to imagine new ways of being that are not characterized by doom or despair. Across eleven tracks of free-flowing, transcendent, and often euphoric electronic music, Skeleten praises the power of comradery and community; while dreaming of a future that is joyously boundless. 



Skeleten, real name Russell Fitzgibbon, has always been fascinated by the ideas of utopias. He’s thought a lot about how the concept has shifted and morphed throughout history, and how the goal post for a utopia is always moving further and further away. “We're more familiar with the idea of a dystopia in the modern world - that's more close to our consciousness. I think on this album I wanted to explore the importance of imaging and embodying a new world.”

Written before and during the pandemic, the album was born out of a desire to connect with others and to shake the mantle of introspection that had been placed on his previous works. From the opening notes of the otherworldly album opener “Generator”, it's clear that this record prioritises immediate pleasures without forgoing intimacy. The lyrics are also more explicit, reaching outward with inviting choruses and mantra-like melodies. “I think the album came out of the experience of feeling this great desire to reconnect and dreaming of the power of community,” says the musician.

This is especially present in lead single ‘Sharing The Fire’, a song that crackles with optimism. A sprawling dance track with pulsating synths and Fitzgibbon’s gentle, warm vocals, the song is about futures that are full of brightness and bliss. As the artist repeats in the song’s chorus: “for all that you know, summer could be around the corner.” The song is about an “almost frustrated desire to connect with more people and feel that sense of community through shared goals.” The accompanying video clip, shot on 35mm, is similarly invested in ideas of companionship and gathering. Shot in a clinical, drab office space, friends and revelers fill the space with warmth and energy.

Elsewhere, this invocation of paradise is infused in the stripped-back, singular title track “Under Utopia”. The song was significant to Fitzgibbon, as it allowed him to gather all his thoughts and ideas about his new music under one message. “It’s something I wrote when I had this collection of songs and wanted to give it a single voice, which was about seeing the world entirely new, full of hope and beauty, and all of us underneath pushing it upwards.” 

An antidote for gloom presented in Under Utopia is the transformative power of love. There’s “Heart Full Of Tenderness”, a woozy, languorous love song, awash with cloudy vocals and glistening synths; the truncated beats and hypnotic pleading of “Territory Day” and “Right Here It’s Only Love” which explores the icier and ambient side of R’n’B.


Another hallmark that characterizes Under Utopia is Fitzgibbon’s airy and spacious mix, which gives his songs room to sprawl out and simmer; as well as allowing his calming baritone to come to the fore. This is notable in the contemplative, synth-laden “Colour Room”, the funk-tinged “Walking On Your Name,” the previously released “No Drones in the Afterlife,” and the beloved early single “Mirrored,” which speaks of finding yourself through a connection to those around you.

Fitzgibbon has been enmeshed in the Sydney music scene for years. Skeleten emerged out of a need to experiment and make music without worrying about the outcome. “It was just me making music that felt right, and very much focusing on this kind of meditative aspect of exploring without any goal,” says Fitzgibbon. But as the project has evolved, the artist has gained clarity on what he hopes his music will achieve: bringing people together, and creating an atmosphere of elation. Or as Fitzgibbon puts it on Under Utopia’s hallucinatory album closer “We’re gonna get everything we need in the world.”

Yasushi Ide, the Japanese Street Music Icon Unleashed "Cosmic Suite 2" in a Revolutionary Blend of Genres.

Yasushi Ide, the revered figure in Japanese street music, has recently unveiled his latest musical opus titled "Cosmic Suite 2," a rebel music masterpiece that pushes the boundaries of musical genres.

This groundbreaking album features collaborations with esteemed pioneers including Afrika Bambaataa, Don Letts, Josh Millan, Jeff Mills, DJ Krush, Tony Allen, and more. By transcending the limitations of time, genre, and even mortality, Ide has crafted a truly unique and eclectic street music experience unlike anything seen before.
Notably, Ide enlisted the expertise of Grammy-winning sound engineer Steven Stanley to embark on the reconstruction of "Cosmic Suite 2" using his renowned dub mix techniques. The outcome of this collaboration is the birth of "Dr. Steven Stanley Meets Yasushi Ide - Cosmic Disco Dub," a mesmerizing rendition that showcases the genius of both artists.

Hailing from Jamaica, Steven Stanley is a highly regarded sound engineer and producer whose illustrious career spans several decades, primarily in the realms of reggae, dub, and rock music. Having worked with acclaimed acts such as Talking Heads, Black Uhuru, and Tom Tom Club, Stanley has solidified his status as a living legend within the industry. His contributions to Tom Tom Club's "Genius of Love" and his Grammy-winning work on Black Uhuru's "Anthem" further exemplify his unparalleled expertise. Additionally, Stanley has collaborated with notable artists including Grace Jones and B-52's.

In "Dr. Steven Stanley Meets Yasushi Ide - Cosmic Disco Dub," Stanley expertly integrates elements from the original "Cosmic Suite 2" tracks, employing his unique dubbing techniques to enhance the sonic experience. Through the addition of his signature dubby reverb and other distinctive sound manipulations, Stanley elevates the album to an entirely new dimension.
"The Battle" Transformed into an Enchanting Disco Dub Experience, Infused with Stanley's Horn Section Effects for a smoky ambience.

In the mesmerizing track "Galactic Beats," the legendary Afrobeat pioneer Tony Allen's powerful drums take center stage. Skillfully applying his dub effects, Stanley adds vibrant layers and new dimensions to the composition, further enhancing its sonic palette.
Another standout is the dub version of "LAVA," featuring acclaimed Japanese singer UA. The track, which was already a fan favorite in its original form, undergoes a remarkable transformation in this dub rendition, further accentuating its appeal.

"Outer Space" Transcends Time and Genre with a Dream Collaboration Between the Late Legendary Reggae Drummer Style Scott and Japan's Turntablist Extraordinaire, DJ Krush. While the original track exudes a stoic and deep cosmic dub essence, Stanley ingeniously reimagines it as a nostalgic old-school dancehall masterpiece.

"Sumimasen" is a track that exemplifies Stanley's mastery, where the unique Japanese word "Sumimasen" (meaning "I'm sorry") is transformed into a psychedelic and deeply immersive dub journey. The track features captivating echoes on the vocals and twisted synth elements, transporting listeners to a cosmic realm of sonic exploration.
Furthermore, it is crucial to highlight "Hear, There, and Beyond," a collaboration between Yasushi Ide, Kan Takagi, the pioneering figure of Japanese hip-hop, and RECK, the bassist from the legendary punk rock band FRICTION. This reconstructed version takes the original track to unprecedented heights. With a remarkable shift to tribal drums in the midst of the song, the energy intensifies, resulting in a wild and exhilarating musical experience.
The reconstruction of this album evokes memories of Mad Professor's "No Protection," a renowned dub reconstruction of Massive Attack's work that remains an enduring masterpiece in the genre. With its exceptional craftsmanship and artistic vision, "Dr. Steven Stanley Meets Yasushi Ide - Cosmic Disco Dub" has the potential to be regarded as another timeless dub reconstruction masterpiece, solidifying its place in music history.

Borrowed Tongue is the debut solo album by Korean singer-songwriter Minhwi Lee. It’s a mysterious, strangely compelling thing, an album of rare poetry, and remarkably self-assured. Originally released in November 2016, the album made waves, winning best folk album of 2016 at the 14th Korean Music Awards. Its eight songs, written and predominantly arranged by Lee, don’t reveal their secrets easily, or at first blush; rather, they take their time slowly to unfurl in her listeners’ worlds. There are hints of other music here, from time to time: the intimacy of Stina Nordenstam, perhaps; the gauzy haze of Hope Sandoval, on the blissed-out pop of “Broken Mirror”; there are touches of acid-folk, and ECM jazz, and a slyly filmic approach to songwriting and arrangement that makes every song fit perfectly into the album’s arc.

Lee arrived at her solo music through a complex, circuitous route. After studying musicology in Seoul, she learned her trade, film scoring, in New York and Paris. She also studied classical music, blowing off steam in a wild punk duo, Mukimukimanmansu, who released one album, 2012, on Korean indie label Beatball. Subsequently, Lee has been refining her music, focusing both on her solo songs, and on writing for television series and films; she’s written scores for films by such directors as Sangmoon Lee, Jeongwon Kam, and Wanmin Lee. She also plays in the jazz outfit Cubed, and recently joined doom metal group Gawthrop on bass.

Since its release in 2016, Borrowed Tongue has slowly bewitched listeners with its idiosyncratic arrangements and evocative songwriting. It’s an album that hints at plenty, but refuses to make grand statements, something Lee seems intent to pursue: in correspondence, she’s very clear that she wants these songs to enact a kind of transmutation, to be adopted into the listeners’ lives and exist within their own imaginings. She does, however, offer a few hints to what propels these mercurial songs, explaining, “this album is about a person who again opens their mouth, which was once shut. The album deals with what it means to speak: things that are known but not said, things that should be said but are not, things that cannot be said but nonetheless are.”

This may well explain the curious mood of Borrowed Tongue, the multiple ‘voices’ that inhabit the album; Lee’s singing voice is pliable and mutable, approaching each song as its own diorama and ensuring the song is sung with just the right tone. The arrangements Lee conjures for her songs are all in service to narrative and melody; they appear to her alongside the composition, which is surely why everything here fits together so beautifully. From there, Lee approaches her songs carefully, in deference to their ‘need to be sung’ a certain way. There isn’t a moment wasted: everything on Borrowed Tongue is as it needs to be, whether a melancholy folk song taking to the air, or a psychedelic reverie dreamed into being. It’s a beautiful, poised and confident debut.

In the quiet surrounding the pandemic, Madeline Kenney made sonic sketches in the basement studio she shared with her then-partner. She arranged phrases that called her—the sharp knife of a synth cutting a path along a blooming arpeggio, drums stuttering firm and tight. Working this way, she amassed a collection of songs she had no particular aims for. Some formed her 2021 EP Summer Quarter, others languished.

But in 2022, Kenney’s partner left suddenly and without warning, plunging her into the solitary act of untangling what happened. In the wake of her ensuing depression, she revisited these songs and found in them something prescient. She’d already laid the foundation for A New Reality Mind.

That her relationship’s end came without warning is only half true, though. The warnings were in the feelings and fears that inspired Kenney’s critically-acclaimed third album, Sucker’s Lunch (2020), which was co-produced by Jenn Wasner (Flock of Dimes) and centered around the idea of flinging oneself freely into the seemingly-assured destruction of new love, come what may.

If sonically Sucker’s Lunch was letting yourself be pulled into the warm bath of a good story, A New Reality Mind reflects the harsh light of truth coming to break the spell. But as sobering as morning light can be, there’s brilliance to it, too. To see in the clarity of day is a gift. A revolution. Rather than reckoning with love lost, the songs on A New Reality Mind grapple with the self that chose to fall. “I guess I only needed to look twice / Reflected in my attitude, my constant compromise,” Kenney sings on “Red Emotion,” the musical landscape screeching and gasping around her observations of how she made herself small to keep the dream of love alive.

These notions of sight and vision pervade the record as Kenney stands before the infinity mirror of selves she’s been to preserve bonds in her life. On “I Drew a Line,” Kenney contends with the stories she’s told herself to keep plodding along, and the way those stories shape her perceived reality. She invokes John Berger’s Ways of Seeing—“Everything around the image is part of its meaning,” we hear him say. “Everything around it confirms and consolidates its meaning.” Here, Kenney isn’t interested in shaming herself for being carried away by the fantasies of the heart, but rather in investigating the unavoidably human propensity to do so. “I, like everyone else, am muddling through my most ordinary disaster of a life,” she acknowledges, a sentiment which reverberates through album opener “Plain Boring Disaster.” “I don’t need to start again,” she sings at the song’s close. “But I can change when it ends.” We may all be doomed to repetitive, ordinary heartbreaks, Kenney realizes, but at least we can cultivate a capacity to witness our missteps and build new realities for ourselves.

This is Kenney’s most expansive work, while also her most solitary. Produced and recorded alone in her basement, these songs are manifestations of what it feels like to be transformed by pain. Textures collide and collude; sonic ornaments emerge and dissipate capriciously; saxophones soar untamed, as on the 80s pop elegy to self-sacrifice, “Reality Mind”. These songs beg you to dance, then pull the rug out from under you once you’ve caught the beat, leaving you dizzy like the whiplash of love’s end.

But in the propulsive power of A New Reality Mind, there’s also acceptance, self-forgiveness, and a willingness to move forward into life, with all its ways of making a sucker of you. “That way of living, I’m over it,” Kenney declares of the habits that hold her back on “Superficial Conversation”. “I do not need to be reminded of what I did,” she assures, the song opening wide and beaming, like a smile expanding to taste a new breath of air.